


The Gang are Freshmen

by NobodyOfficial



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: All trigger warnings will be listed before each chapter so they're specific, Angst, Canon Compliant, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, First Everythings, High School AU, M/M, Sexual References, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, but is it love or friendship and she's just a great big lesbian?, cheap slasher level violence, each chapter is a short story, nothing's ever worse/more graphic than it gets in the actual show, so yeah Dee's kinda into Charlie, we don't know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-23 20:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodyOfficial/pseuds/NobodyOfficial
Summary: There was a time before they were the worst people in Philadelphia, when they hung on the cusp of something terrible, but still had the opportunity to haul themselves back into morality. None of them were bad people, not just yet, but the blueprints were already set out for the kind of future they'd have. They were thieves. Liars. Drug addicts, alcoholics, schemers. And all at fourteen years old.~I'm just writing short high school au stories in the format of a TV show (don't worry, it's not in script format, just a little dialogue heavy). Each chapter is like an episode, I guess. I've tried to keep it canon compliant, but if I've tagged a ship it means they at least kiss, if not madly pine after each other at some point.





	1. The Gang Start High School

**Author's Note:**

> Some warnings for this chapter:  
> -mentions of drug use  
> -very vague mention of suicide  
> -slapstick violence and some 'cheap' bloody scenes (like mall Santa)  
> -internalised homophobia, but not as harsh as in the show. It's a bit more like heteronormative confusion

It was always drizzling in Philadelphia.

Mac hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders, trying to see if he could manoeuvre it to cover his hair. When his father had been rightfully carted off to prison seven years ago he'd left behind whole cabinets of hair gel, and Mac had been using it to imitate his style ever since. He was the kind of boy who liked to think of himself as the man of the house, even though he had no idea how to perform any stereotypically masculine tasks, and even if he did he wouldn't have stooped to manual labour. That was more Charlie's thing.

Charlie seemed oblivious to the rain, but then he seemed oblivious to most things. A plastic bag stuffed with chewed stationary and soggy school books trailed behind him as he desperately tried to keep his wet, matted hair off his face. He hadn't cut it for three years and it showed.

"Dude, what happened to you over summer?" Mac asked, bumping his shoulder against Charlie's in a way he thought would look tough, but only made Charlie laugh.

"I don't know what you're talking about, we spent literally every day together." Mac was torn between jealousy at the fact that Charlie's voice didn't break and pity over the fact that he still sounded like an eight-year-old.

"You got seriously chubby, dude." Mac reached out to poke his friend's newly rounded belly, but Charlie slapped his hand away.

"That's chips, dude," he said.

"It doesn't matter if it's from eating chips, you're still chubby." Mac had been routinely ridiculed throughout elementary and middle school for his weight, and although he was still slightly pudgy entering puberty he hoped he could now shift some of the torment onto Charlie. Of course, the moment anyone tried to make fun of Charlie he'd deck them in the face, but at least this time he got to be the one who did the decking.

"No, like, it's a pack of chips." Charlie untangled his hand from his hair and rolled his shirt up, revealing a large pack of lays chips duct-taped to his torso and very prominent ribs.

Mac gaped, eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead. "Wha- wh- why? Why? Wh-why?"

"Why not?" Charlie rolled his shirt back down and tucked a handful of hair behind his ear. "I've heard high schools can be rough, man, don't want to lose my chips."

Mac groaned. Even at an all-boys catholic school he and Charlie had been the weird kids. In a school where kids made out with their twin brothers in the gym locker room he and Charlie had been the weird kids. High school was the chance for a fresh start. There would be girls, which Mac wasn't thrilled about, what right did girls have to be at his school? But there would also be a chance to sell the drugs he'd been stocking up on all summer and to make new friends. Friends who didn't tape chips to their chest. "Don't blow this for me, man, don't be all weird at high school, ok? No biting people. And no chest chips, take that off!"

"Whatever." Charlie muttered, rummaging a hand around inside his shirt to try and undo the duct-tape. Now he just looked like he had shingles. "I can't promise I won't bite anyone though, that's kinda my move."

Mac shrugged and nodded. If nothing else, he'd be best friends with that badass kid who bit someone.

~

"Walk further behind me."

Dennis winced as the strained creak of his sister's back brace echoed down the street. It was so loud it was intoxicating. He wanted to turn around and snap her spine so that she'd never need that stupid back brace again, then he'd- nope. Nope. This was his chance to prove he wasn't the sociopath everyone thought he was. No one at high school would know he ripped the heads off poor, defenceless animals. He could be a cool guy here; God knew he had the looks. And the brains. And the banter. He was going to peak in high school.

“Maybe if you let me under the goddamned umbrella my back brace wouldn’t be rusting in the rain!” Dee screamed after him. Her voice was grating, like the metal strapped to her back. He ignored her.

Dennis didn’t know exactly when he’d started hating his sister. It was some time after it became cool to hate girls, around the end of elementary school, but well before it had become cool to start liking them again. And it wasn’t like he hated her personally, she was irritating in the same way everyone else was irritating. Dennis didn’t hate Dee; Dennis hated people.

By the time they reached the gates Dennis could already hear the chorus of screaming adolescents out in the yard. He and Dee had attended a private school up until now, when their father had decided they were both too stupid and too unworthy of private education. He’d spent what would have been their tuition fees on a series of prostitutes and made them promise not to tell their mom. As if they told her anything.

Dennis paused and allowed Dee to catch up with him, he’d rather face the yard with his sister than alone, and when he turned back to enter the gate he found himself face to face with a boy and a child so dirty and tangled in his own hair he could’ve been an animal for all Dennis knew. A handful of chips fell from the bottom of his shirt.

The boy made eye contact with Dennis and he fully intended to look away, he had freakishly large eyes and it was unnerving, but found that he couldn’t. They stood either side of the gate, staring each other down like their lives depended on it. Dennis pretended that it did. Pretended that if he could just keep his eyes locked on this boy’s gorgeous chocolate brown specimens until he blinked he’d receive everything he wanted in life. He was a god. Gods didn’t lose. Gods didn’t-

“Ouch! Hey!” The smaller kid was sprinting away across the yard, having delivered a sharp and unprecedented blow to Dennis’ shin.

“Charlie, you bitch!” The boy yelled after him. “You little shit, I said not to do that!” He started after him, then turned to stare at Dennis one more time. Dumbfounded, Dennis stared back. Then the boy scampered away, kicking his friend in the back of the knee and flooring him. They then proceeded to wriggled around on the gravel, doing something that no one would consider wrestling.

“Dee,” Dennis turned to his sister, “Just promise me we won’t make friends with those losers?”

“Huh,” Dee scoffed. “Obviously we won’t.”

~

Mac was trying, he really was, but the paper still made Charlie’s eyes ache. No matter how many times he jabbed his finger at the page and asked, “Can you read this number, Charlie? This one right here?” it never became any easier to read. All the colourful overlays that had helped Charlie focus had been taken off him when he left middle school, and he hadn’t been able to afford glasses since he was seven. Even then it took him minutes to process simple words, and he never remembered them the next time he encountered them. He could play chess though, so he figured he’d do fine in high school.

“Uhh.” Charlie stuck out his tongue and narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the sheet. “Fifty seven.”

“No,” Mac sighed, then more gently, “No. It’s twenty one, ok? Your form is in room twenty one.”

Charlie nodded, but didn’t see how that helped. If he didn’t know what the number twenty one looked like how would he find the room? “Can you show me the twenty one again?” Other freshmen were jostling behind them, trying to catch a glimpse of the sheet.

“Just give me your hand.” Mac snatched one of his hands away from the duct-tape they were now stuck to. “Here.” He tracer a soft, looping pattern and a straight line on Charlie’s palm. “Now remember what that feels like, and when you trace a number that feels the same, that’s your form room.”

“Ok.” Charlie didn’t want to let go of Mac’s hand. They’d been in the same class since they were four years old and Charlie was certain he didn’t know how to make friends. He didn’t want to spend his days bored and staring out the window - obviously he wouldn’t listen in class - until he got to hang out with Mac again. But it seemed things were destined to be that way.

"I'll catch up with you at break, alright?" The crowd was already beginning to separate them and Charlie merely huffed in response.

He made his way up to the second floor, but all of the door numbers were far too high for him to reach. A couple of teacher were stood in the middle of the corridor, so Charlie waited patiently for them to finish speaking... For roughly five seconds.

"Hey," he called up to them. "Hey!" No response. "Hey!" One of the teachers turned her head slightly to give Charlie a disapproving look, but then promptly returned to her conversation. Charlie screwed his eyes up and screamed.

When a child screams most parties in the near vicinity will feel a mixture of sympathy and irritation. When a teenager screams the scale is tipped slightly in favour of irritation. When Charlie Kelly screamed it sounded like the massacre of a million frogs in a rusty, old blender, embedded in a box of nails, being dragged behind a high speed train, and it made adults want to kill themselves.

"What?"

"What?"

The moment he had grabbed the teachers' attention Charlie shut his mouth and asked politely, "Where's room twenty one, please?"

"It's right there, behind you, Jesus kid, don't ever yell like that again or I swear to God-" Charlie disappeared inside the classroom and the words were lost to him.

It was a chemistry lab, walls lined with bottles and beakers, while the floor was occupied by two-person lab benches each complete with a gas tap. Charlie would be taking full advantage of those. The only problem was that almost all the seats were taken. He didn't want to be That Loser who ended up sitting in the front row, but the only other seat available was next to the preppy kid he'd kicked in the shin earlier. Figuring one of the teachers he'd just screamed at would probably turn out to be his form tutor, Charlie swallowed his pride and dumped his carrier bag on the back work bench.

"'Sup." He nodded casually. It looked cooler when Mac did it.

"Hey, you're that little freak who kicked me!" Within seconds the boy's hands were around Charlie's throat, holding him against the bench. A crowd of intrigued freshmen began to gather around them.

Charlie grabbed experimentally at the boy's wrists and found his grip came away easily. He pushed him back slightly then delivered a decimating blow to the side of his head. He toppled over a chair and onto the floor.

The door opened and everyone scrambled to get back to their desks, the boy Charlie had just floored included. Their form tutor was, as Charlie had predicted, one of the teachers he had... spoken to in the hall, a frumpy lady who looked like she hadn't taken her lab coat off since she was in high school. She took one look at Charlie's bruised neck and the boy beside him's swollen eye and decided it wasn't her problem.

As the teacher, Charlie didn't catch her name but she wasn't married, began to drone about school etiquette the boy beside him elbowed him sharply. "Why the fuck did you do that?" He hissed.

"You were choking me, man, what else could I do, y'know?" Charlie's voice was anything but a whisper, however enough of the other class members were now chatting amongst themselves that no one noticed.

"Not that, why'd you kick me in the shin, genius."

Charlie shrugged. "Felt like it. You look like a prick. You were staring my buddy down."

"No! No!" He exploded, then quickly calmed himself down. "No. Your 'buddy'-" he spat the word out, "Was staring at me. He- urgh, never mind. I'm Dennis."

"Are we friends now? Is that what we're doing? 'Cause I don't want to be friends," Charlie said. He wasn't exactly adverse to making new friends, but this kid, Dennis, looked fresh from a real estate commercial and didn't exactly seem like the kind of person Charlie usually hung out with. Plus, he'd known the guy ten minutes and had already assaulted him twice; God knows what would happen if they hung around each other longer.

"No, we're not friends," Dennis scowled. "But I don't know anyone here and for some reason these goddamned idiots decided to separate me from my sister, the only half decent person in this shitty school. And Dee's the worst, Dee's a stupid bitch, but she's still better than all of you losers, no offence."

"Offence, dude!"

Dennis ignored him. "So no, we're not friends, but I don't want to look like a total loner in front of this whole class, so we're going to talk, ok? Can we talk, Charlie?"

"Eeh..." Sure, Dennis wasn't Charlie's usual crowd, but then who was? It's not like they had to spend any time together outside of form, and Mac would never have to know they'd spoken. If nothing else Charlie could bum lunch money off him when he was running low. "Alright, alright, we can talk."

Dennis smiled slightly, something akin to relief in his eyes, and suddenly he seemed a lot more like the pathetic losers Charlie chose to hang out with.

~

Mac skulked at the back of theatre class. He’d spent the entirety of roll call staring out the window, trying to seem mysterious and wondering why no one would talk to him. Maybe he’d been a little too mysterious. Or maybe kids just didn’t want to be friends with someone called Ronald MaDonald. No matter how many times he asked teachers to call him ‘Mac’ the closest they could ever muster was ‘Ron’ or, even worse, ‘Ronnie.’

Resting his head on his hands, Mac allowed his gaze to drift to the window and settled in for another gruelling period of sky-gazing, when the sound of the chair next to him being pulled out dragged his attention back to the room. A girl had the audacity to try and sit next to him? Ignoring her back brace, Mac whipped the chair out from beneath her as she began to sit down, letting her crumple to the floor.

“Hey! What the hell?” She exclaimed, and before Mac could respond she’d dragged him onto the floor beside her.

“You bitch! I’ll poke your fucking eyes out!” Mac yelled, grabbing handfuls of her blonde hair. He could feel the rage bubbling inside of him, sudden and hot. He was rarely angry, but when he was it was so sharp and so fast it took control of brain, until it was all he could feel. All he could see. It would die down before he actually poked the girl’s eyes out, but in the moment Mac was fully prepared to gouge holes in her face with a pencil.

“Not if I poke yours out first, cock-sucker,” the girl declared. She grabbed a copy of Hamlet from a nearby shelf and smacked Mac over the head with it.

“What the fu-“ Mac lunged for her throat in a blind fury, but instead of meeting soft flesh his fingers closed around metal. The brace. Goddamnit. In the milliseconds it had taken Mac to realise he'd never be able to choke this girl he'd calmed down.

She laughed slightly and pushed him off, far too easily for Mac’s liking, then stood up. After a moment she rolled her eyes and offered Mac a hand up. He took it.

“So-“ She sat down, and Mac collapsed into the seat next to her. “I'm Dee, you're obviously a psychopath.”

“What? No. I'm Mac.” His eyes swept the classroom, scouting throughout room for anyone in his form group. “Please,” his voice dropped, “Call me Mac.”

“Sure, freak,” Dee chuckled. “I'm so excited for this class, theatre is my favourite. I want to be an actress.”

“I don't give a shit if you want to be an actress, we’re not sharing that kind of thing. But I want to be a bar manger, in case you're wondering.” Mac didn't want to be a bar manger so much as he wanted to sit around and drink all day with very little actual work to do, but there was an air of authority that came with the title ‘bar manager.’

“Cool. Maybe I'll waitress for you, before I make it on broadway,” Dee smiled. Mac thought that maybe he'd let her.

The classroom door slammed open and a young man sparking with energy bounded in. Mac smirked; he looked like Charlie on acid. Shit, he probably was on acid.

Without even introducing himself he snatched up a register (why did they need to be registered again? Where could they possibly have gone between roll call and class? On the first day?) and started to bellow out names in different comedic voices. Dee looked like she'd just had an epiphany.

Mac hid his face in his hands and waited. “Ronald McDonald.” A few pupils sniggered, looking around for whichever poor sod was called Ronald McDonald. The few who knew stared right at him. The teacher tried again, in scratchy, high pitched voice. “Ronald McDonald.” It would only get worse.

“Here,” he grumbled. Everyone snuck glanced at him out the corners of their eyes and giggled to themselves.

Dee was grinning ear to ear. “Ronald McDonald? Dude, unfortunate, but pretty sweet name.” Mac didn't respond. “I prefer Mac though.” He felt a hand on his back and looked up. Dee had chilled her smile to a crooked grin and her eyes had lost their malicious grin.

Mac offered a small smile in return. “Thanks.”

~

After an exponentially boring health class Dennis found himself less inclined to hate Charlie. He was an idiot, he couldn’t even read, but he was funny. That, and he had a pocket full of stimulants he’d shared with Dennis during class. Drugs; Dennis looked for that in a friend.

So rather than loiter outside the cafeteria waiting for his sister Dennis had agreed to go in with Charlie, a decision he now deeply regretted. Charlie had piled as much food as possible onto his tray and swiped an extra pudding cup, then had the audacity to pour ketchup over the whole thing. To make matters worse, when a group of juniors got up from a nearby table, obnoxiously leaving their trays, Charlie gathered all their half-eaten hotdogs onto his own plate.

“Seriously?” Dennis glared at him critically, but Charlie was the embodiment of ignorance is bliss, a chunk of someone else’s hotdog crammed into his mouth. He merely shrugged.

Dennis brushed it off, it was his first day, plenty of time to make new friends, and put his tray down on the table that had just been vacated. Someone else’s tray was placed next to Dennis’ and he prepared to round on them, make them cower beneath his fiery stare, but instead he found himself giggling. She was cute.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl purred, lifting her tray up again. “Are you sitting here?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” Dennis said. “But so are you.” He thought that sounded smooth. He knew that sounded smooth, everything he said was smooth, but still the girl looked perplexed. He’d have to level with this commoner. “Will you sit with me?” Absently he pushed some of the discarded trays out the way, forcing them down the table to where other freshmen were sitting. They mumbled among themselves and pushed them back slightly, but didn’t address Dennis directly. Good. Dennis didn’t like people speaking to him unless he invited them to do so.

“Of course.” The girl placed her tray back down on the table and Dennis rushed to pull her chair out for her.

“Uh, Dennis?”

Oh. Dennis had forgotten about him. “No, go away, Charlie,” he said without turning around, waving his hand over his shoulder.

“Oh. Ok.” Charlie seemed like a goodnatured kid, he’d come crawling back to Dennis the next day. He turned his attention back to the girl. Fairly flat-chested, but she was fourteen, plenty of time for developments in that department. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m Maureen.”

Ok, so she had an old lady name. That was fine, Dennis had already decided he wouldn’t give any girls the satisfaction of him screaming their name while they made love. “It’s nice to meet you Maureen, I’m Dennis.”

“So Dennis-“ She smiled shyly as she spoke. He liked that. “How are you finding high school?”

Over summer Dennis had been working on a system he believed would be most effective at seducing girls. He didn’t know what to call it yet, and hadn’t quite worked all the, ha, kinks, but it couldn’t hurt to test it on Maureen. “Actually, it’s easier than I expected. People are friendly, classes are easy. And I’ve already met a beautiful girl.” He places a hand gently on her wrist. Two steps of his system covered already; this was easier than he’d ever imagined.

“Oh, Dennis,” Maureen laughed. “You’re so sweet. I feel really safe here, because my big brother’s a junior. You should meet him, look-“ Maureen began to wave someone over. “Bill! Bill!”

Clingy much, Dennis thought, meeting the family already. But being aquatinted with a junior would improve his social standing greatly, especially since he’d been hanging out with Charlie all day.

A hulking shadow fell over the table. Bill didn’t look like a junior; Bill looked like the man who came to break your fingers when you lost a game of online poker and couldn’t pay up. “Hello Maureen.” His moustache quivered as he spoke. “Who’s this?”

“This is Dennis, he’s the best,” Maureen cooed.

Bill didn’t seem overly enamoured. “Come with me,” he growled. Dennis looked around to see who on Earth he dared speak to like that and- oh. It was him.

“M-me?” Dennis stuttered.

“Over here.” Bill planted a ‘friendly’ hand on Dennis’ shoulder and all but dragged him away from the table. Once they were at a safe distance he leaned in close - he stank of sausage grease and cheap body spray - and growled, “What are your intentions with my sister?”

“What?” What kind of movie cliché was this guy? “Come on man, we’ve just met.”

“Intentions,” Bill repeated.

“Fine, ok, I’m just going to show her how valuable I am, make her bond with me emotionally, enter her swiftly and conqueror her. That’s all.” Dennis waited patiently for his high-five. Instead Bill grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him in even closer.

“I’m gonna fuck you up,” he hissed.

“What?” Dennis squeaked.

“Today, after school, I’m gonna fuck you up, Dennis.”

Ah. Dennis realised his mistake. Any other man would have congratulated him on his bold plan, but this was Maureen’s brother. Granted, he wouldn’t give a single shit if anyone wanted to have sex with his sister, but Dee was a whore, he pitied the fool who tried to get with her. Instead he thought of Charlie. He’d known that scruffy, drug-fuelled dumbass for less than four hours and honestly he hated him, but if anyone touched him Dennis would have no qualms about humiliating them in front of the entire school. Everyone knew humiliation was a worse form of torture than physical punishment. Everyone except Bill, obviously.

Before Dennis could say anything Bill shoved him back towards the table and stormed away. Dennis gulped.

“Aww, you two get along so well,” Maureen squeed.

She wasn’t that cute. Dennis could find another girl.

~

Charlie wandered through the cafeteria and out the doors into the yard. Despite the deep grey of the sky the outdoor benches were still packed with students. Charlie carried on straight past them, across the yard, to where the bleachers were. They were old and discoloured and reminded Charlie of every other set of bleachers he’d ever seen in his life. It was kind of comforting.

Beneath the bleachers Charlie caught sight of Mac, sat with the girl they’d met at the gates earlier. He brightened and rushed over to them. “Hey!”

“Oh!” Mac’s face split into a huge grin. “Hey Charlie! This is Dee, we have theatre together, which sucks.”

“Yeah, theatre sucks,” Charlie chimed in, crossing his legs and plopping himself down on the gravel.

“Actually, theatre’s the only good class this shit hole teaches.”

Charlie stared at Dee. He hadn’t met many girls his own age, or many girls at all, and he’d certainly never met any who spoke like that. It made him want to ask her if she’d play trains with him, but he refrained. That was the kind of weird behaviour Mac didn’t approve of. Instead he asked, “Can I have that?” and snatched half a sandwich from Dee’s plate before she could reply.

“Well, I was gonna say yes, but now I feel inclined to say no.” She reached for it back, but playfully, and Charlie batted her hand away.

“No!” He shoved the whole sandwich in his mouth and Dee laughed. He’d never made anyone but Mac laugh until today. He was beginning to think the twins weren’t as pretentious or mild-mannered as they seemed. They were awkward and distant and unsure, things Charlie felt all the time, and it drew him to them.

“Ugh,” Mac rolled his eyes. “If you’re both done, Dee and I have class to go to.”

“What?” Charlie protested.

“Different lunch slots bro, sorry.” Mac picked up his tray and began to stand. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Sorry,” Dee added, although she had no reason to be. “Oh, hey, have you seen my brother? Dennis?”

“Yeah, he’s with some girl in the cafeteria,” Charlie grumbled. He hadn’t cared when Dennis had ditched him before, he didn’t care that much about Dennis, but now Mac was leaving him too? It was an overwhelming amount of pressure for the first day of high school. There was probably some old paint in the art rooms; Charlie could do with getting high again.

Dee scowled and nodded, heading for the cafeteria. Mac patted him on the shoulder on the way past. Then Charlie was alone. In a new place. He abhorred new places.

Keeping his eyes fixed firmly downwards Charlie started on his pile of hotdogs, but suddenly he wasn’t so hungry. It felt like his insides were squirming around his abdomen. He wouldn’t have been surprised if his intestines just leapt out of his mouth.

“Hey.”

“Argh!” Charlie screamed as someone lightly touched his shoulder, leaping away from the source. An axe-murderer! Or… a freshman girl. A pretty freshman girl with short, fluffy hair, and sharp features, and big eyes. Charlie cocked his head and stared at her.

“Sorry,” she said. “Hey.”

“Where did you come from?” Charlie demanded. He was sure he’d been alone.

“I was sitting here the whole time. Your friends left without even acknowledging me. Bitches.” She rolled her eyes and Charlie turned his focus to her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah,” he chuckled. “Yeah, those bitches.” Charlie looked around. “I’m Charlie.”

“Oh.” She smiled and Charlie’s heart did something he swore was life-threatening. “I’m Elizabeth.”

~

Charlie burst into history ten minutes early, tooth-splitting grin shattering his face, and slammed his stuff down on a front-row desk. He was in love with Elizabeth. They’d talked all through lunch, not about anything in particular, but Charlie had never spoken to a girl before. Every time they made eye contact his heart fluttered, and he felt a little like he was going to throw up, but in a good way, like when he was high.

There was a nagging voice at the back of his head that Charlie highly suspected had been influenced by Mac, telling him that he wasn't in love, he was just overwhelmed at the prospect of speaking to a girl for the first time. He ignored it. He was also beginning to wonder what would’ve happened if Dee had just stayed a moment longer and they’d started talking. And also why Mac sometimes made his heart skip a beat like Elizabeth did. He ignored those thoughts too.

History was Charlie’s favourite subject. He was going to be a lawyer one day, so although he payed little to no attention in any other classes he thrived in history. He knew every president, every treaty, every detail of every war. It was the only exam he’d never had to cheat on.

Slowly the classroom began to fill up. The boy behind Charlie kept kicking the back of his chair, but he looked big so Charlie kept his mouth shut. Nothing was going to ruin his first history class of high school.

“Hey man, mind if I sit,” a soft voice at Charlie’s shoulder asked.

Charlie turned round. “Duley!” Of course, the boy’s real name wasn't Duley but Abdul Lesh. Charlie had long forgotten that since he'd been been calling him Duley practically from the first day of elementary school. He’d always been quiet and reclusive; unlike Charlie he didn’t see his broken home as an opportunity for freedom, rather a debilitation in life. He liked Charlie and Mac because when he came to school with a black eye their only responses were ‘I’ll get the ice’ and ‘you look badass, dude!’ respectively.

He slid into the seat next to Charlie’s and offered him a half smile before turning his attention to the doodles on the desk. Charlie turned his attention to adding more doodles to his own.

It was well past the class’ starting time (Charlie could tell time as long as the big hand was on a number) when the teacher finally showed up. He was a walking stereotype, middle aged with no fashion sense or will to live. When he asked, in a monotonous voice, “Who here likes history?” Charlie was the only pupil whose hand shot up.

“I love history!” He screamed, not even bother to control the pitch of his voice. Somewhere down the corridor, in the staff room, the thought crossed a teacher’s mind that a child might have just been murdered. She took a sip of coffee.

“Oh,” the teacher peered down his nose at Charlie. He had just scrawled his name on the board, but Charlie didn’t recognise any of the curly letters. “Who are you?”

“Charlie Kelly.”

Suddenly he was beaming at Charlie, but there was no joy in his eyes. “You’re Charlie Kelly,” he chuckled. “I’ve heard all about you.”

“Really?” Charlie frowned. Usually it took teachers the whole year to learn his name.

“Yes.” He drew a textbook from a desk drawer and held it out. “Come up here Charlie, take this.”

Charlie bounced up to the front and snatched the textbook. “Thanks!”

“Now read.”

Charlie gulped, feeling like all his organs had suddenly dropped to the floor. His hands began to shake as he realised just how many people were watching him. He looked hopelessly back at the teacher.

“Read,” he prompted.

Slowly Charlie’s spasming fingers lifted the front cover then flicked past content pages and legal rights. The writing was blurry, he had trouble focusing on anything close to his face, and all the blurry letters seemed to merge into one huge, fuzzy spot. He stared hard at the title, which was in larger letters and the text was green. “The…” He knew that one. The next word required a lot of squinting, but once he’d made out the first couple of letters it was self-explanatory. “Revolutionary!” And Of course the next word had to be, “War!”

Charlie whirled round and beamed proudly at the teacher. He was smirking, but not in a pleasant way. “Go on.” He gestured for Charlie to continue.

The classroom was swimming. Everything seemed dulled and confusing, like when Charlie was drunk, except it was lacking the warm, giddy feelings. He couldn’t bare to stumble through a full sentence in front of his new class. He hurled the book to the floor.

“I’m fucking high!” Students began to giggle immediately, especially at Charlie’s customary, flamboyant hand gestures. “I can’t read it ‘cause I’m fucking high and my head is killing me!” He turned expectantly to the teacher. That wasn't true, but it may as well have been. He'd be high next time, he'd make sure of it.

“Sit down, Charlie.” The look on his face told Charlie nothing better had been expected from him. “No swearing in class. Learn to read.”

Duley patted Charlie softly on the arm as he slipped back into his seat. His throat was starting to ache and his eyes felt warm. History was all he had. He could barely add and subtract without error. He couldn’t read. Maps made his head ache. History was the only thing standing between him and becoming a garbage man. All it had taken was two minutes of excruciating embarrassment, and suddenly Charlie hated history.

“Hey!” Charlie’s chair jolted clears, knocking him into his desk. “Hey Kelly!” Another sharp kick was delivered to his seat.

“What?” Charlie snapped, refusing to turn around.

“Heard your boy Dennis is getting in a fight after school,” a deep voice rumbled.

Charlie rolled his eyes. Dennis, that bitch. “I don’t give a shit about Dennis,” he replied, but it was less convincing as his voice cracked. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“Who the fuck am I?” Warm breath tickled Charlie’s ear and he shrunk into his shirt a little. “I'm Adriano, you little worm.” He laughed to himself, thought Charlie couldn't figure out what he was laughing at. “How’s Dennis in a scrap?”

“I don't know, ok? I don't know him, shove off,” Charlie hissed under his breath. The teacher had begun it read from the text book himself and Charlie wanted to listen.

Adriano pressed on anyway. “He's fighting Bill Ponderosa, junior quarterback. Biggest guy in school. He's gonna crush that little weed.” He laughed again.

Charlie tried to tell himself he didn't care if Dennis got into a fight. He'd attacked him twice in under six hours, hell, he'd happily get in a fight with Dennis. But for some reason the thought of Dennis getting punched in the face by someone who wasn't five foot two and under a hundred pounds caused a twinge at the back of Charlie's mind. Despite his pretentious attitude, and all the long words he used that Charlie didn't understand, and that God-awful golden-boy haircut, Dennis had been nice to Charlie. He'd had one-and-a-half friends when he arrived at school this morning (Duley didn't count as a whole friend, Charlie never knew if he was going to kill himself or not) and now he possibly had two-and-a-half. He couldn't let Dennis get in that fight.

Who wanted to be friends with that loser who got his ass kicked on the first day of school?

~

Dee found she was actually eager to join the crowd gathered out in the yard, waiting for her brother’s total humiliation. He'd been in plenty of other fights, but every one had been with her, and she always won. Even the back brace didn't debilitate her in any way; Dennis was a wuss.

“Hey Dee!” Someone poked her in the shoulder and she turned to find Mac. Oh yeah, she'd made friends with the second biggest loser in school.

“I can't believe my brother’s getting in a fight, this is going to be so embarrassing. If anyone asks, we're not related,” she told him firmly.

Mac shrugged. “Whatever. Rather you than me, I'm surprised Charlie hasn't done anything embarrassing yet.”

Dee flushed slightly. Charlie was… ok. Charlie was the only boy Dee had actually wanted to think about for more than ten seconds. Usually the thought of having to spend her life with a man, with someone like Dennis, with someone who was irrational and angry and aggressively masculine (a description that more accurately depicted Dee than her brother, but she was oblivious to this) made her stomach churn. But Charlie was kind of cool, she supposed.

He appeared at Mac’s shoulder, bouncing on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. If she angled her head right Dee could easily see into the centre of the huddle, where it was obvious neither Dennis nor Bill had shown up yet.

“Pick me up, I can't see,” Charlie whined, tugging on Mac’s sleeve.

He shrugged him off. “No Charlie, that's weird.”

“I wanna see! Dude!” Charlie jumped a little higher, leaning on Mac’s shoulder to try and propel himself higher.

Mac muttered, “For fuck’s sake,” and grabbed Charlie and, to her surprise, Dee and wrestled them forward to the centre of the crowd. “Can you see now, Charlie? Can you fucking see?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said pleasantly.

A low rumble started up at the opposite side of the crowd, people cheering, jostling each other about, then falling deathly silent and parting like the Red Sea. Dee’s mouth went dry. Bill was perfect. Over six foot, built like a lion, wavy hair he didn't straighten like her brother, rugged cheeks that weren't covered in makeup. Bill was perfect, yet everything about him made Dee want to run a mile. She switched her gaze to the floor.

“Where's the little pervert?” Bill hollered, and the juniors in the crowd screamed in response.

Dee scanned the crowd for any sign of her brother and caught sight of a mop of perfectly straight dirty-blond hair trying to retreat from the clearing. Someone grabbed his shirt and turned him around; Bill recognised him instantly and he was dragged into the centre of the circle, which had really devolved into a mob. Dee wanted to watch her brother get pummelled, but every time she caught sight of Bill she felt like retching. When she'd heard the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ she hadn't thought people meant it literally.

Dennis was pale and jittery, sweat glistening in his forehead and mascara in tracks down his cheeks. Every time Bill so much as shuffled his feet he flinched dramatically, covering his face. It drove the crowd insane.

Bill reared his arm, preparing to take a swing, when a blur of ill-fitting camo gear barrelled into him. Everyone froze. Bill’s hand was inches from a cowering Dennis’ face, but now Charlie was hanging off it, staring up at Bill fearfully.

“Get off you little rat,” Bill growled, trying to shake Charlie free. He clung on tightly. Bill raised his other fist, what was one more unconscious freshman? and prepared to do some pretty serious damage to Charlie’s jaw.

Charlie opened his mouth and bit a chunk out of Bill’s arm.

~

“It was cool of your buddy to um, y’know, that thing…”

The yard was long deserted, but Dennis, Mac, and Dee had gathered just outside the gates. Dennis had wiped the makeup from his face and Mac couldn't stop stating. He looked young, raw, natural. His lips looked soft. That was a horrible thought, what could be more disgusting than thinking about another boy’s lips? But Mac thought it anyway.

“Yeah, Charlie’s pretty cool,” Mac said, though internally he was shaking with pride. Sure, Charlie had embarrassed all of them in front of half the school, and probably bitten a main artery out of the school’s quarterback, but he'd also given Mac the opportunity to talk to Dennis. Plus, Charlie did look pretty badass with his mouth filled with a football player’s blood.

“Yeah,” Dee agreed absently and Mac smiled at her. She was alright, for a girl. No. She was just alright.

Charlie emerged from the school, jogging down the front steps towards them. The blood on his shirt was evident even from a distance, and Mac was sure it was matted into his hair too. Badass.

“Hey guys,” Charlie beamed. “I am in so much trouble, you would not believe, I’ve got detention for the rest of the semester and they're sending a note home to my mom and I have to write an apology letter to Bill-“ He looked expectantly at Mac.

“I've got you covered buddy, don't worry.” He patted Charlie's head and was disgusted to discover his early assumption was correct; Charlie's hair was dripping with blood. It was suddenly less badass now that it covered his palm.

Dee removed a small band from her wrist and held it out to Charlie. “Here.”

“What is it?” He took it from her and immediately wound it around his fingers like a sling shot.

“It's a hair tie,” she laughed, motioning for Charlie to tie his hair up.

“Oh!” He did, in a messy knot on the back of his head. “Thanks.” That wasn't a word Mac heard from Charlie often.

Dennis shoved his sister out the way to stand in front of Charlie, then seemed to lose his momentum and dropped his gaze to the gravel. “Y’know, I could've totally taken that guy, on my own, like, I was doing good,” he mumbled. “But, like, thanks anyway or whatever.” He shrugged and scuffed his shoe.

“Hey man, no worries,” Charlie beamed. “Didn't want to be lab partners with the school loser, that's all.”

“Shut up!” Dennis shoved him lightly, but withdrew himself before Charlie could even consider retaliating.

“We gotta go,” Dee interrupted, shoving her brother with surprising force down the street. “So… see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Charlie was staring at her with an intensity he usually only reserved for glue and television. Mac assumed it was the back brace, and poked him as a reminder to not be rude.

“Come on.” He waved awkwardly, then started chaperoning Charlie in the opposite direction before he followed the twins home like a stray cat.

Charlie grabbed hold of Mac’s sleeve and dragged his feet, slowing them to a snail’s pace. “Give me a piggy back,” he whined.

“No, you're fourteen, you can walk,” Mac snapped.

“I'm tired.” He grabbed Mac’s arm more securely, completely halting him. “Pleeease.”

“Fine, but you're going to have to carry my backpack.” He shrugged it off and slipped it onto Charlie's back, he looked like a turtle, and noted that Charlie had managed to misplace all the school supplies he'd taken with him that morning. Mac would bring him a pen tomorrow.

Charlie wasn't heavy, but Mac also wasn't as strong as he professed to be, so he was grateful they only lived a few blocks away from school. He shifted and swayed, trying to keep Charlie’s tight embrace from strangling him.

“I'm gonna marry this girl I met,” Charlie said, and although Mac felt his blood run cold he put on a sunny smile.

“Which one?”

“Elizabeth, y’know, she was there at lunch-“

“No she wasn't-“

“Yes she was!”

“Stop going to school high, Charlie, you're making people up.”

“I'm not!” Charlie pressed his cheek against Mac’s shoulder and all the ice of his previous statement melted away.

The sky was still grey but the clouds were paler, beginning to crack. When Mac turned his head he could just make out Dennis and Dee walking down the road, the former having also turned back to look at him. Them. Mac turned quickly back to face the floor, only assuming Dennis did the same.

Mac felt uncomfortably warm, as if his whole body was blushing. That wasn't right, he wasn't suppose to blush when he caught pretty boys staring at him, so there could only be one explanation; for once, it was sunny in Philadelphia.


	2. Charlie Pretends to be a Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s majorly late, I’m sorry!
> 
> Warnings:  
> -an increase in underage drinking  
> -sexual harassment  
> -drugs mentioned  
> -references to rape, child abuse, and suicide  
> -if you feel very strongly about Charlie being trans or experience particularly strong disphoria I wouldn’t reccomend reading this

The corridor was flooded with students, each on their own aggressive rampage for the door. Dee was usually long gone by this point, she liked to sneak out of her last class of the day five minutes early to avoid the home-time rush, but Charlie had asked them all to stay behind today. This was the last time she did anything Charlie asked her to do. She said that every time, but this time she meant it.

 

Charlie had crawled on top of the lockers, lord knows how, and was now perched up there happily avoiding the swarms of students below. There was half a red crayon tucked behind his ear, and if the bite marks were any indication Dee knew exactly where the other half was.

 

"What're we doing, Charlie?" Dennis kicked the lockers, then hopped back shaking his foot while Charlie remained perfectly balanced.

 

"Just wait dude, I'm gonna do it," Charlie replied, looking out over the shoal of students.

 

“Do what?” Mac grabbed Charlie’s ankle, trying to pull him down, but Charlie kicked him off.

 

“Do it, do it,” he mumbled, scanning the corridor. “Oh!” Charlie battered the lockers with his heels, the sound deafening next to Dee’s ear. “Shut up shut up shut up!” Sitting up straight and craning his neck, Charlie whistled loudly then yelled, “Hey Elizabeth! Your ass looks good from up here!”

 

Dee grabbed hold of his calf and yanked him to the floor. “Charlie, you little bitch.” She kicked him in the ankle for good measure. “Leave that poor girl alone, she doesn't owe you anything.” It was futile turning to Mac and Dennis for backup, they only encouraged Charlie’s sexist behaviour. In fact, before they'd met Dennis Dee might've gone as far as to call Mac and Charlie gentlemen; of the street-dwelling, uneducated variety, of course. Charlie was weird - after a fifteen minute conversation with Elizabeth he'd decided he was going to marry her. Their relationship was heading down a weird, dark, empty back alley from the beginning. But Dennis didn't help.

 

“Dude!” Mac slapped Charlie on the shoulder. “Way to make that girl feel awkward! Nice!”

 

“No! No!” Dee fumed, though she was being largely ignored. “Do you know what it feels like to be a girl? To feel threatened just because you're walking down the street? To have creepy dudes yell at you for no reason?” She shoved Charlie with her shoulder. “Do you?”

 

“Eh, they don't know, stupid,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at Dee.

 

She kicked him again. “You, Charlie! You're stupid!”

 

“Being a girl isn't that hard,” Dennis chipped in, smirking as if was being helpful; as if he'd ever been helpful in his life. “You get to wear pretty clothes, and makeup, and watch bitchy TV shows, and get free booze from guys who like you. I'd love that.”

 

“Dennis, you already do all of those things,” Dee said, rolling her eyes. The corridors had started to clear a little and the boys were beginning to wander off, leaving her behind. She swallowed her pride and hurried to catch up. “But when you look like a girl shit happens to you, shit you'd never understand. Being catcalled like that isn't a compliment, it's a threat.”

 

“What? No,” Charlie scoffed. He was the only one still listening to her, Mac and Dennis had started their own conversation. Charlie didn't always understand what she was saying, but he always had the decency to listen to her. “I'd love to be catcalled, it'd be great, it'd be great to have men and for them to yell at you in the street. Stop complaining.”

 

“You want to be catcalled?” Dee stared at Charlie. He was probably about the same height as most of the girls in their year. His hair looked like something he'd scooped out of a drain, but after a shower and an intense session with her curling irons there could be something to say about its rich chestnut colour. Charlie wasn't handsome, he was chubby-cheeked and scruffy and hadn't quite hit puberty hard enough, but God if he wasn't pretty.

 

Dee smirked, arching an eyebrow in a way she thought looked villainous but really made her look like she had a nervous twitch. “Hey Charlie? I'm going to make you a girl.”

 

~

 

“Where'd Charlie go?”

 

It had taken the entire walk to Mac’s house for him to realise Charlie, and by extension Dee, had disappeared. When had he stopped looking out for Charlie? Usually when they walked together he kept a constant eye on him, to make sure he didn't wander out into traffic, but today he'd been so absorbed in his conversation with Dennis about- what? He could barely remember, only that he'd enjoyed it.

 

“I dunno, off with my sister, I guess,” Dennis shrugged. Despite how much he seemed to rely on her Dennis professed to hate his sister. Mac didn't understand why, he thought Dee was hilarious, but just as he found himself spending less time with Charlie he also toned down his friendship with Dee when Dennis was around.

 

“So…” Mac shoved his hands into his pocket and shrugged. He was reluctant to let Dennis into his house; it was a shit hole. “Wanna do something?”

 

“Like, me and you?”

 

“Yeah, or whatever.” Mac and Charlie had nabbed two old bikes from the dump over summer, but something told him Dennis wouldn't want to play with those; he was classier than that.

 

“Cool.” Dennis planted himself on Mac’s doorstep and pulled a Gameboy from his pocket. Why were they even looking for things to do if Dennis had a Gameboy? “You think of something to do, and we can hang out.”

 

It wasn't unusual for Mac to find himself in the role of the idea man. Charlie’s chemical-addled brain could spew out a million ideas a second, but half of them were impossible and the other half were nonsensical. Now the pressure was on though. Charlie would happily go along with anything Mac said, but Dennis was more complicated than that. Mac needed an idea that would flatter him, really pique his interest.

 

“Um… So, about all this business with Charlie and that girl… I was thinking we get dressed up and hang around the streets, try to bag us some ladies the old fashioned way.” Mac had never had an interest in girls before Dennis. Strictly speaking he still wasn’t interested in girls, but in spending time with Dennis.

 

Looking up from his Gameboy, Dennis fixed Mac with an oddly intense stare while his lips twitched into something that could be mistaken for a smile. “I like that idea,” he hummed. “I like that a lot.”

 

~

 

Charlie was surprisingly unresistant to everything Dee did to him. He showered without complaint, allowed her to teach him how to shave his legs, and even used the fruit scented shampoo. She picked out a mini skirt and some thigh-highs her mom had informed her she was too ugly for, and a crop-top that she couldn’t wear without being irritated by her back brace. At least someone could get some use out of them.

 

Charlie was incapable of drying his own hair, constantly hitting himself on the head with the nozzle or getting his hair tangled in the filter, so Dee snatched it off him. “I’ll do it,” she hissed. “But that towel better stay tight around your waist.” He had folded the towel under his arms in a very lady-like manner and, for once, managed to stay still while Dee combed and dried his hair.

 

Dee switched the drier off and couldn’t help but pause for a moment to stare at Charlie’s reflection in the mirror. He was… kind of cute. Free from the grime of the South Philly streets, Charlie Kelly was a bit of a catch. His hair wasn’t quite curly, but rippled like a cloud, and his face was sun-kissed and freckled. Without a matt of hair obscuring them Dee could now see that Charlie’s eyes were a warm green, a reflection of a sea he’d never set eyes on. If she hadn’t known him so well Dee might’ve kissed him. But she did know him so well. And he was an asshole.

 

After allowing his hair to be curled and dressing in Dee’s clothes Charlie stood up straight and allowed her to inspect him. The mini skirt reached his knees, the crop-top covered almost his entire stomach, and they’d had to borrow a pair of Dennis’ heels since Dee’s were several sizes too big. He looked like a tween dressing up in her mom’s clothes; he looked perfect.

 

“You look alright.” The light reflected off Charlie’s curls and Dee reached out to run her fingers through them. For once Charlie didn’t flinch away. She shook it off. “Let me put some makeup on you.”

 

“Ew, no way!” Now Charlie wriggled backwards. He suddenly seemed much more petulant and annoying; Dee wondered if that was sexist.

 

“Fine, I won’t use girl makeup, I’ll use Dennis’,” she said.

 

“Dennis’ makeup is girls’ makeup!” Charlie protested. “Why do I need makeup? I look fine. I’ve never looked this good.” He stepped in front of the mirror and blushed slightly. “Do I have to show this much skin? I’m uncomfortable.”

 

“You need makeup-“ Dee hauled him away from the mirror and started to apply a generous layer of lipgloss, “Because girls aren’t allowed to just look fine, they have to look flawless at all times. And you do have to show that much skin because our only worth is sexual, ok?” Charlie huffed. “If you’re uncomfortable suck your stomach in.”

 

“Huh?” Free school meals (and having rich friends to steal food from) had been good for Charlie, he no longer looked emaciated like he had done after the summer, but somehow his ribs had managed to maintain full visibility while his stomach grew slightly soft. It was endearing, in a weird-street-kid kind of way. “Mm, no.”

 

“Fine, get called fat then.” Dee’s green eyeshadow looked much better on Charlie than it ever had done on her. She smeared it in with her thumb, holding Charlie's face still with her other hand. The last time she'd been this close to a boy she'd panicked and thrown up on his shirt. After that people had been very hesitant to get close to her. But now Dee didn't feel like retching. Her insides seemed warm and fuzzy, the irrational race of her heart vibrating around her body. She wanted to lean in closer, brush her fingers across Charlie's cheek, press her lips against his thick coating of lip gloss.

 

Ew.

 

Dee shook her head slightly, dismissing the idea, and leaned back. She was probably only into a Charlie because he looked like a girl. Was that worse? No, girls were cute. Charlie wasn't cute, Charlie was disgusting.

 

Before she could do anything stupid Dee shoved Charlie out of her bedroom. “Come on, we’re going now.” She turned to shut the door and caught sight of Charlie’s hoodie, discarded on her floor. It was at least five times too big for him. It would probably even fit over her back brace. It was probably dirty and tattered. It had probably never been washed.

 

She scooped it up and pulled it on.

 

~

 

Aside from the obvious grandeur the house was disgusting. The lawn was mowed, but with reckless abandon, leaving it patchy and pockmarked with patches of mud. At some point the facade had been white, but now it was a dirty cream infested with cracks. Still, it was probably the poshest place Mac had ever been, so Dennis pushed away his usual shame.

 

“Dude, you live in a freaking mansion!” Mac exclaimed, confirming Dennis’ suspicions.

 

There was no one home, but the assortment of half-eaten boxes of crackers and an empty can of Vault was evidence that both Dee and Charlie had been. Dennis grabbed a couple of beer cans from the fridge and passed one to Mac.

 

“Aren’t your parents home?” He asked, head swivelling wildly to take in as much of the house as possible.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, they let me do whatever I want,” Dennis said, gesturing with the beer can. That wasn’t exactly the truth. The truth was that they didn’t give a shit about him, or Dee, or anything outside of themselves. Their mother was far too busy cheating on their father to ever both to check on them, and their father was so occupied with scamming his own company he didn’t remember the twins’ birthday. They shared a birthday, they’d already made it as easy as possible for him.

 

“That’s cool, I guess. You’re so lucky you get to live with your dad, I wish my dad wasn’t a drug dealer.” Mac took a swig of beer. “We should clear this mess up though, just in case.”

 

Dennis didn’t know what it was in case of, but he allowed Mac to close up the boxes of crackers, sweep the table, and set the cans aside to be recycled. Sometimes he did things that made Dennis wonder if he was actually, secretly, a good person. He helped organise the books in the library, even though he hated books. He always volunteered to clean the board in class. When another student (Charlie) allowed their stationary to get out of hand (chewed within an inch of its life, partly digested, scattered across the desk) he’d yell at them to get their act together and organise it into neat piles.

 

Mac didn’t like society’s rules. He didn't queue in shops, didn’t put his litter in the bin, didn’t slap a woman’s ass when given the opportunity. But he seemed to have his own rules that he enforced at any given opportunity. Dennis didn’t mind. He kind of liked Mac’s rules.

 

“Let’s go upstairs, I’ll lend you some clothes.”

 

“What’s wrong with these?” Mac was wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. His hair, usually slicked back, had started to come loose.

 

“You look like you’re trying to pick up the hottest twink at a gay bar,” Dennis laughed. He didn't want to laugh; he was suppose to laugh.

 

“No I don’t, I look badass!” Mac yelled, that dangerous heat edging its way into his voice. Dennis liked that, he was similar to Mac in that way. He seemed mortal to the onlooking humans, but beneath his skin, beneath his eyes, within his bones lay a God.

 

“I never said you didn’t.”

 

Dennis opened his wardrobe and began to throw outfits onto the bed. What would Mac look good in? A sweater and chinos, probably, but that would clash horribly with his hair. A leather jacket? Certainly, but Dennis didn't have one, and he didn't like his men to look so hardened. His fist closed around a floral shirt and he glanced back at Mac. He'd never go for it. Would he?

 

Tactfully Dennis held the shirt up against Mac’s chest. “I like this on you-“ Oops. Mac was raising an eyebrow. “Girls’ll like this on you.”

 

“Alright,” he said slowly, taking the shirt from Dennis while maintaining almost threatening eye contact. Dennis caught Mac staring at him a lot; he assumed it was a dominance thing. “I'll just-“ he shrugged, “Go in the bathroom and change or…”

 

“No, it's fine, you can stay in here,” Dennis shrugged as casually as he could.

 

“I guess. We’re both guys, right?” Mac chuckled, turning his back to Dennis and peeling his top off. He was on the verge of losing his middle school weight and starting to become properly muscled, something that wasn't unequivocally attractive but made Dennis stared out the corner of his eye all the same. He just wanted to know what another boy looked like without his clothes on, there was nothing wrong with that.

 

Once Mac had got the shirt on Dennis lost interest, so turned his attention to his own outfit. Obviously he looked like a ten in anything, but he'd made Mac get dressed up, so didn't want to look dishevelled next to him.

 

“Hey.” Mac was holding his bunched-up tank top in his hands and smiling. “Why don't you wear this?”

 

Dennis frowned and made no move to take it, though he wanted to. Tank tops were crude, trashy, and unappealing, but he wanted to take it all the same.

 

“It is clean, I'm not Charlie,” he laughed, holding it out towards Dennis.

 

Attempting to smile in a way that wouldn't give away the butterflies in his stomach, Dennis took the top off Mac and pulled it on. He didn't turn his back. Didn't break eye contact with Mac the entire time, aside from when the top passed over his eyes. Mac wanted to play the dominance game? Dennis could play at that too. Dennis could play and win.

 

~

 

The wind nipped at every inch of Charlie’s bare skin. He shrugged his shoulders up further into his ears and looked at Dee in despair. She was perfectly warm and perfectly safe, shielded in his hoodie. Already someone had told him to ‘smile, babe’ and a creepy old man had tried to touch his hair. Charlie had almost screamed at him; nobody was allowed to touch him unless he said it was ok. But then Dee had reminded him to ‘be ladylike’, whatever that meant, and he'd shut his mouth.

 

They were stood just slightly off a main road, leaning against a chain link fence opposite a pub that was closing down soon. Charlie presumed that it was the fact that the bar was closing down that had drawn so many customers, since it was decrepit and dirty and filled with leering old men. Charlie reckoned he could clean a bar much better than this. Maybe if he'd cleaned the bar it wouldn't even be shutting down.

 

“Hey sweetheart.” A middle-aged man across the street made direct eye contact with Charlie. “I bet I could do you better than your little boy-toy over there.”

 

Charlie bit his tongue and shuddered. He didn't like sex much. He wasn't old enough for sex, the thought of it still made him nauseous. The thought of anyone but Mac even touching him made him nauseous.

 

“I'm your boy-toy,” Dee hissed excitedly. “I love this character. I'm thinking maybe I'm like your trashy, street-urchin boyfriend who knocks you about a bit but it's ok, it's ok, you know no one’ll ever you like I do so you stay with me-“

 

Blocking out Dee’s babbling, Charlie yelled across the street politely, “No thank you, sir.”

 

“Ooh, you really are getting into this ladylike thing, aren't ya?” Dee smirked, nudging him gently with her elbow. “Hate yourself yet? Filled with existential dread? Want to kill yourself?”

 

“Wait, you want to-“ Charlie started, but was cut off by another pub-dweller.

 

“Show us your tits!”

 

“I don't have any,” Charlie replied, exhausted. He was starting to understand why every time Elizabeth saw him she scurried away in fear. But… But he was being nice! Not creepy, like these troglodytes. They were suppose to get married, that's how it went in all the fairytales, anyway.

 

“You will do if you keep eating pizza like that, just saying.” Dee seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. She flinched a little every time a man started shouting, but relaxed as soon as she realised the assaults were being hurled at Charlie. He wanted to go home, but every time he suggested it Dee told him they ‘weren't done yet.’ Well, when were they done? When someone crossed the street? Touched him? Tried to- He stopped himself firmly.

 

“Dee, I want to go home,” he murmured.

 

“No Charlie, you can't just go home from this,” she said sharply. “This is my life, I live every day of my life like this. Stomach it for a few more minutes, ok?”

 

Charlie nodded, focusing his eyes firmly on the road. Some creep at the pub kept trying to catch his eye so he turned away, but that only seemed to entice him more. He nodded to his creepy friend and started to cross the street. Chain link pressed firmly against Charlie's back; he had nowhere else to go.

 

“Noticed you avoiding me.” The man’s voice was creaky, damaged by years of smoke. He wasn't particularly big but he was tall and lanky, easily towering over Charlie, barely taller than Dee. Charlie prepared to pull a sharp stick from his pocket to shank the man with, when he reached a hand out. Charlie froze. No one was allowed to touch him.

 

Before he could wrap his nicotine-stained fingers around Charlie’s exposed waist Dee grabbed his hand and snapped his fingers back. He squealed in pain and collapsed to his knees.

 

“You goddamned freak,” Dee drawled, not even bothering to look at the man as she systematically broke each of his fingers with a sickening crack. “You can stare at Charlie and insult him all you want-“ Charlie frowned at that, “But don't you dare touch my friend.” She released the man’s now grotesquely disfigured hand and he crumpled into the foetal position.

 

“Come on, Charlie.” She shucked his sweater and passed it back to him. “Let’s go home.”

 

Charlie looked down at the man, suddenly feeling a lot less powerless than he previously had. He should've fought back. He should've said no. He never should've let that happen.

 

He kicked the man in the ribs.

 

There was a dull, echoing crack as his ribcage split. Dee’s eyes were wide and she started to tug on Charlie’s sweater. She was saying something. “That's enough, that's enough now, Charlie.”

 

No.

 

He kicked the man again, so hard his hip slipped out of joint and the momentum propelled him onto his back. A low, pained moaning filled the air, but it only raised the hairs on Charlie’s neck. He stomped down on the man’s injured hand and he howled, but it was obscured by the blood roaring past Charlie's ears. He brought his foot down again on the man’s hand, his stupid, tiny hand-

 

“Charlie!” Dee was screaming now, holding his hand but only lightly. “Charlie, we have to go!”

 

With a blink everything calmed. Charlie looked at the man, bent out of shape like a wire hanger. Just a man he didn't know. He nodded.

 

“Yeah, ok, we're going,” he agreed softly.

 

Dee pulled on his hand, turning him away, and Charlie didn't ask her to let go all the way home.

 

~

 

It was already starting to get dark when Dennis and Mac, how had Dennis put it? Hit the streets. Seemingly emboldened by his imitation of Mac’s ‘I'm a badass’ style Dennis strutted through the streets, unaware of any danger he could possibly be in.

 

Mac knew the streets of South Philly inside-out. He knew the best place for burritos, or pizza, or hotdogs (three separate places, believe it or not. One of them a street vendor). He knew every worker at every hardware store by name, if only because his mom bitched about them all taking her business. He had a fake member’s card to the video store, he knew where every drug dealer lived, he knew where he could deal drugs without being caught.

 

The only thing he didn't know was where girls hung out.

 

Thankfully Dennis hadn't called him out on this, since he'd instead requested they ‘acquire’ some women. The suggestion made Mac uneasy, but he figured he'd have to go about ‘acquiring’ a woman some day, so he may as well hone his skills now.

 

He'd taken Dennis to a club where college girls with fake IDs were almost guaranteed to be served. No one was stupid enough to let Dennis and Mac, neither of whom could even pass for eighteen, inside, but they could loiter around the doors and holler at anyone who exited the club.

 

“Hey sweetheart, nice ass!” Dennis yelled at an inebriated, but still startled girl emerging from the club. “How about I take you out later?” She scuttled away but Dennis still roared with laughter.

 

“This is great, buddy,” he said, slinging an arm around Mac’s shoulders. “You've not been yelling much, go harass a woman.”

 

“But-“ Mac started.

 

“Come on, it's what they're here for. Our pleasure.”

 

Mac disagreed. Women brought him no pleasure whatsoever. Aside from Dee, who made him laugh more, even, than Charlie. And his mom, who he loved dearly. And his supplier, who wouldn't tell him her name but who always gave him a good deal on molly. So maybe some women made his life better, why not give some others a chance?

 

Mac waited until a small gaggle of women appeared from inside the club. They were scantly clad in outfits far too revealing for Mac’s taste, but then Dennis gave him an awkward, lopsided wink and he knew he had to do it anyway. “Heeey… Sex…” No. That wasn't right. “Sexy? I'd like to-“ He grappled desperately for a suggestive metaphor. “Give you the… Time of day.”

 

Dennis was in fits of giggled beside him and Mac smiled. Dirty talk was, apparently, not his thing, but at least Dennis was enjoying himself.

 

He glanced casually back at the club, just so Dennis didn't think he was staring at him, and his stomach dropped. The group of women were marching towards them. The one on point seemed particularly large and intimidating. Mac had fought with Dee before; any woman that lanky had tremendous reach.

 

“Talking to me, you little pussy?” She demanded, pushing Mac lightly and still causing him to stumble.

 

“No, uh, no umm-“ Mac surveyed the other two women. One was short and thin and looked as though she could kick ass about as well as Dennis could. “I was talking to her!”

 

“Oh yeah?” The short woman stepped forward and Mac realised what he'd mistaken for a romper was actually an army uniform. She jabbed a finger at Dennis. “You have anything to do with this young man?”

 

“Me?” Dennis shrugged, already walking away. “Just passing by.”

 

Mac didn't even have time to be furious before a fist was jabbed uncomfortably close to his eye socket. He did not like women. He also did not like Dennis very much right now.

 

~

 

Charlie passed the vodka back to Dee and giggled. They'd been passing it back and forth for about an hour now, only having managed to drain the bottle neck. As she pressed it to her lips Dee noted once again that the bottle tasted like Charlie’s lipgloss. This was the closest she'd ever been to kissing a girl, kissing a boy, kissing Charlie.

 

“Thanks for the, for the-“ Charlie paused to regather his thoughts. “The shitty experience. I'll stop catcalling Elizabeth in the corridors.”

 

“Who?” Dee mumbled. She knew Charlie liked a girl in their year, but could've sworn she wasn't called Elizabeth.

 

“The girl I like, you sit next to her in math.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. I'll just be super, super nice to her all the time, constantly.”

 

It occurred to Dee that that wasn't the best thing to encourage Charlie to do, so she just shrugged and passed the vodka back. She didn't care. Didn't care that Elizabeth? Elizabeth might like Charlie. Didn't care that Charlie liked Elizabeth. Didn't care.

 

The sound of the door opening caused her to startle, grabbing the bottle from a still-drinking Charlie and jamming the cap on, before cramming it between two sofa cushions.

 

“It's just us, God, chill out,” Dennis said, sauntering into the room. He looked… Dee fumbled for the right word, but could only come up with ‘unbelievably gay’, in Mac’s tank top and skinny jeans. Mac looked distinctly Dennis-like in a floral shirt, aside from the fact that he was covered in blood and bruises were starting to form around both his eyes.

 

“Dude!” Charlie exclaimed. “What happened to you?”

 

“Me?” Mac raised his eyebrows halfway up his forehead in that menacing way only he could. “What happened to you, Charlie? You look… Less attractive than usual.” He collapsed on the sofa next to Mac and pulled the vodka out from the cushions.

 

“So you're usually attracted to me?” Charlie laughed.

 

Mac immediately tried to backtrack. “No- No-“

 

“It's fine, dude, it's fine.” Charlie took the vodka and drank from it while staring rather suggestively at Mac.

 

Dee turned her attention to Dennis, who was completely unscathed physically but seemed to have suffered serious mental harm. He was staring at Charlie in slack-jawed wonder, head tilted slightly to one side and eyes wide. Charlie stared back with suspicion.

 

“Dude,” Dennis breathed eventually, taking a tentative step forward. “Seriously. You look really good.”

 

“It's probably just because he's had a shower for once,” Mac snapped. He pulled Dennis onto the couch beside him, but he leant forward send continued to stare at Charlie.

 

“Your hair is… It’s really cute.” To her surprise, he then turned to Dee. “Did you do that? It's really cool.”

 

Dee blinked hard, then gave a small smile. “That,” she said with soft pride, “Is how you compliment a girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took ages, it’s two weeks until summer and coursework is legit! Thanks for sticking it out my good dudes :)
> 
> I’m hoping to actually get the next chapter done within a week, but if I can’t I’m sorry. If I ever take particularly long to update (like now) I’ll leave a note saying why/apologising on my tumblr. So if you’re ever wondering if I’ve abandoned this work (I won’t, I promise) you can just go check that out.
> 
> Anyway, next time we’re gonna meet high school Schmitty, Mac and Charlie are gonna get s e r i o u s (not a love thing, but also yes it’s kind of a love thing) and Dennis and Dee are going to be just as awful as usual.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Mac and Charlie Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY!
> 
> Warning:  
> -physical violence  
> -drug/alcohol abuse  
> -very vague homophobia  
> -sexism  
> -gambling, I guess
> 
> I’ve not edited this yet, I’ll come back to do that tomorrow, sorry for any mistakes.

“D’you wanna watch a movie?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Wanna get some beer?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Wanna go to the park?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Charlie, this doesn't work if you say ‘yeah’ to every option.”

 

“Yeah.” Charlie hurled another rock through the gap in the bleachers, hitting another confused football player on the ass.

 

“Well, I don't have any money,” Dee huffed, “So I guess we'll just chill at my place. Dennis it out, I think.”

 

“With Mac?” Charlie rolled his eyes and bent to scoop up another handful of rocks. Since they started school he'd steadily been seeing less and less of Mac. Each time he asked him to hang out he was always busy. Always with Dennis. Usually with Schmitty. Nowadays even Duley got an invite before Charlie and that didn't sit well wing him. Mac was suppose to be his best friend. If not that then his oldest friend. But lately they hadn't been getting along so well.

 

“Yeah.” Dee chucked a rock of her own, hitting Adriano in the back of the head.

 

A rock hit Charlie in the back of the head and he whirled angrily; he'd never liked the taste of his own medicine. Mac smirked down at him, Dennis and Schmitty stood behind him chatting. Charlie scowled at him, but he didn't seem to have any idea why he was being scowled at.

 

“Hey buddy,” he beamed. “Wanna hang tonight? Dennis and me were gonna jack a car.”

 

“No, you, Dennis, and Schmitty were gonna jack a car and Schmitty was busy,” Dee interrupted.

 

“Yeah man,” Charlie shrugged, “I have plans with Dee tonight.”

 

“What?” Mac’s stance hardened and Charlie shrunk back a little. He'd never been on the receiving end of Mac’s aggression before. “What the hell, dude? You're suppose to be my best friend, when I ask you to hang out you have to come hang out.”

 

“Oh reeeally?” If Charlie had had a more reliable memory he would've recalled all the times he'd asked Mac to hang out but he'd said he was busy with Dennis. But he didn't. So the only memory he had to draw his rage from was asking Mac for a cracker and Mac not having one. “We’re suppose to be best friends, huh? Suppose to hang out whenever, huh? Well, you, you, umm, you haven't been hanging out with me!” He dropped the fierce act and sighed at his shoes. “You just always choose to hang out with Dennis and Schmitty over me, it kinda hurts.”

 

“Oh…” Mac’s face softened, but before he could reply Schmitty shoved him out of the way.

 

Schmitty had the kind of face that made Charlie want to punch it the second he set eyes on him. The kind of smirk that belonged in a mugshot. The kind of eyes Charlie imagined were the last thing you saw before you descended into hell. Every time he saw Charlie he made the effort to make fun of something about him, and no matter how much it hurt his feelings it made Dennis and Mac roar with laughter.

 

“Charlie, don't hang out with that bitch,” he said, waving airily at Dee. “You can- Oof.”

 

Charlie knocked him to the ground and knelt on his ribs. “What the fuck did you just call my friend? What did you call her? You take that back you slimy fucking, shit hole, bastard-“

 

He was hauled off Schmitty by Mac, of course, and dumped on the ground. “What the hell, man? Not cool!” Mac exclaimed. “What did Schmitty do?”

 

“He called Dee a bitch!”

 

“Dee is a bitch!”

 

“I know that,” Charlie said. “But it doesn't mean he gets to say it.”

 

Schmitty, who had been straightening himself up and patting down his ribs, took this tender moment to add, “You're getting kinda heavy, Charlie, put some weight on?”

 

In a haze of fury Charlie lunged for him again, but Mac caught his hood and held him back.

 

“We’re not friends anymore,” Charlie yelled without thinking. That wasn't much a revelation; he did everything without thinking. “Were not best friends anymore, Mac, because you're just mean to me. Dee’s my best friend now-“

 

“Hell no,” Dee mumbled.

 

“- And I won't be hanging out with you anymore. I hate all of you.” His chest was heaving and his eyes glassy as he stared at Mac. He wanted him to say something. They'd only had each other for the past eleven years, they were practically family, all he wanted was for Mac say something about how much he valued their friendship.

 

“Tomorrow after school,” Mac started softly, “I'm gonna rip your fucking head off. Meet me in the yard, or else I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you!”

 

“Yes!” Dennis clapped a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “That's my man!”

 

“Go Mac!” Schmitty chimed in.

 

Charlie opened and closed his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He wrestled with Mac all the time. They argued like crazy. But they'd never actually fought before. He'd never thought they would.

 

Dennis patted Mac on the shoulder, then started to walk away with Schmitty, leaving him and Charlie to stare at each other. The rage had faded from Mac’s eyes and been replaced with a slightly dazed look, as if he didn't know what he'd done wrong. He shook it off and hurried after Dennis.

 

“Well,” Dee slapped a hand down on Charlie’s shoulder, “You're screwed.”

 

~

 

Mac stared dejectedly as Dennis fiddled with a coat hanger, trying to bend it into something resembling a car jack. They were still at school, in the teacher’s parking lot, trying to steal their math teacher’s car. He'd given them homework and no one appreciated it.

 

Mac’s mind played his argument with Charlie on a loop, always pausing to give him a clear picture of Charlie’s devastated face. He didn't want to beat Charlie up. Charlie was fierce and oblivious to any harm he may cause his competitor, but Mac knew all of his moves. Plus, if all else failed he could just pick him up and hurl him on the ground. All he wanted was to make Dennis proud of him.

 

“You gonna help me or are you just gonna mope about?” Dennis snapped, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Sorry.” Mac took the hanger from Dennis and smoothed it out, then doubled it over. “Here.”

 

“You still thinking about Charlie? Jerk thinks he's too good for us, hanging out with my sister.”

 

“Yeah,” Mac agreed absently.

 

“He's probably in love with her or some other dumb shit.” Dennis jammed the hanger too hard into the door, bending it out of shape again. “Imagine being in love with someone you could just bang. How dumb.”

 

“Huh, yeah,” Mac mumbled. Dennis looked badass jacking the car. It wasn't often he looked badass, usually he just looked like a capitalist on his weekend off, but the tousled hair and dark clothes suited him.

 

“What's the deal with you guys, anyway?” Dennis pulled the hanger from the car so fast he left a deep scratch along the window. He shrugged, stuffing the hanger back down.

 

“What’d’you mean? Me and Charlie? We’re just, like, bros, y’know?” Despite the fact that they were supposedly fighting Mac still didn't feel comfortable sharing everything about his relationship with Charlie. He was his best friend and his brother and his closest family and his partner in crime and there had been that one time they'd kissed, but they were eight, it didn't count.

 

“How did you become friends though? Charlie’s a weirdo.”

 

“Hey-“ Mac forced himself to stop. Charlie wasn't here right now, but Dennis was. He could always have Charlie's back when Charlie was around, but did it really matter now? “Yeah, he's kinda weird. We just used to hang out on the street together as kids, then we went to the same school, I dunno, we just only really had each other.”

 

“Lame.” Dennis sneered. He'd given up on the hanger and was now snooping around for a suitably large rock. He stooped to pick one up, and Mac took this opportunity to look suitably offended.

 

“Hey!”

 

Both boys’ heads whipped round to stare at the school. Their least favourite math teacherstood on the steps, brandishing a chalk stick at them.

 

“Uh…” Dennis looked round, unsure.

 

“Run!” Mac grabbed him started to pull him towards the gate, turning their faces away from the teacher, but Dennis resisted. He stumbled back a little, smashed the passenger window, then dashed after Mac.

 

“What the fuck, man?” Mac exclaimed. “We were innocent until then!”

 

“For the thrill of it,” Dennis replied gleefully.

 

Mac preferred jacking cars with Charlie.

 

~

 

“I can't believe what a dick Mac’s being right now.” Charlie whined, taking a beer from the crate hidden under Dee’s bed. She sat cross-legged on the windowsill, staring down at him. In her opinion this fight was inevitable. No one could be friends as long as Mac and Charlie had been without beating the shit out of each other. She and Dennis has put each other in the ER at least ten times since they learned how to walk.

 

“I mean, all he does is hang out with Schmitty and your stupid brother. It feels like we're not even friends anymore.” He took a long, heavy swig of beer then nudged Dee out the way so he could hurl the bottle down onto the path.

 

“Whatever, just don't start hanging out with me all the time, ok?” Dee sighed. She wanted to hang out with Charlie all the time, but of course she didn't want him to know that. Whenever Charlie decided to hang out with Mac and Dennis, which was only when Schmitty wasn't around, Dee felt just as dejected as he was feeling now.

 

“Fine.” Charlie flopped down on her bed and Dee decided she had to change the sheets later. “But you've gotta teach me how to fight.”

 

“What?” Dee chucked her own beer bottle out the window.

 

“You're, like, the toughest dude I know. Mac’s freaking huge, I can't fight him.”

 

“Mac’s one of the shortest guys in the year, and he doesn't even play sport. But,” she smiled slightly, “I guess I can teach you how to be a tough bitch.”

 

“Yeah!” He jumped up and tried to rip his shirt open, but quickly gave up on that when he realised it wasn't working out.

 

Dee smirked, slipped from the windowsill, and grabbed the collar of Charlie’s shirt in both hands. Her mind raced to try and find a clever quip, but she decided anything she came up with would be wasted on Charlie. “I can do that,” she settled for, then she ripped Charlie’s shirt open.

 

“Aaah, umm, that's, uhh.” He stared at her in awe.

 

“C’mon.” Dee dragged him out of her room by the tatters of his shirt. “We're going to get some paracetamol.”

 

~

 

Charlie watched keenly as Dee crushed a handful of pills in her first then shook the powder onto the counter. “Gotta snort it like coke, best way to be pain-free.”

 

Charlie scrounged around in his pocket for a dollar, finding only a handful of lint. Oh. He looked at Dee, leaning against the cistern as if she didn't have a care in the world. She didn't look like the kind of person who asked to borrow a dollar to snort her drugs with. He took a deep breath in, so deep it made his tattered lungs ached, then forced it out again. With a last glance at Dee’s casual observation he stuck his face in the crushed paracetamol and inhaled.

 

“Oh my-“ Dee laughed.

 

Charlie hacked up small clouds of powder, his violent coughs momentarily obscuring the burning sensation in his nose. The room seemed distant, he couldn't even feel his feet on the floor.

 

“Charlie, you're wild!” Dee roared. A wad of wet toilet paper hit him in the face. “Here, clean yourself up with this, I think you're ready.”

 

The cool water dragged Charlie back to Earth a little, enough so that he could follow Dee downstairs and into the living room. She stood facing him, for how long Charlie didn't know, then she punched him in the face. He didn't feel a thing.

 

“Oh man! Do that again!” Charlie exclaimed, steadying himself to face Dee.

 

“No, you have to hit me now.”

 

Charlie wrinkled his nose. He took in Dee’s back brace, her skinny limbs and piercing eyes he often found himself staring into (usually rather menacingly). Maybe if he'd attended elementary school with girls then he'd be able to recognise them for the equal adversaries they were, but instead he hesitated. He wanted to hit her just as much as he wanted to hit Mac, which was not at all.

 

“I'm not gonna hit you, Dee,” he scoffed. “You haven't even taken any painkillers.”

 

“Exactly. I'm going to prove to you that I'm tough.”

 

There had never been any doubt in Charlie’s mind that Dee was tough. On their way home on the first day of school Mac had relayed to Charlie the fight he'd had with Dee in theatre. Since then she'd shown absolutely no qualms about decking anyone in the face, not even teachers. At elementary Charlie had been known as the kid who'd fight anyone, but that title had been revoked the moment he met Dee. She was practically invincible.

 

Charlie took a deep breath, curled his hand into a tight fist, and hit Dee straight in the nose.

 

She reeled, clutched her hands over his face, and made a soft grunting noise that sounded more like annoyance than pain. Charlie stood on his tiptoes, trying to see what the damage was, when he suddenly found a fist flying towards his face. He collapsed, unconscious.

 

The first thought his drug-infused brain could muster when it regained consciousness was ‘Man, that was hot!’

 

~

 

Dee never walked to school with Dennis anymore. He usually caught up with Schmitty a couple of blocks over and they always made it very clear that she wasn't welcome. Today was no different.

 

She passed the spot on the carpet where she’d scrubbed Charlie’s blood from last night, no hard feelings he’d said, grabbed her school bag and dragged it behind her along the driveway. Maybe she should make some friends who lived on this side of the city. The nicer side of the city. The only problem was she seemed to rub people up the wrong way whenever she opened her mouth. That, or she almost threw up.

 

If she hadn’t been Dennis’ sister, Dee thought, she might’ve been able to walk to school with Adriano, but Dennis got on his nerves so frequently and so intensely that was out of the question. She'd exchanged a few words with… that girl Charlie liked in maths, but even that seemed to be turning into a frienemies situation. Anyway, Charlie had said she lives above a cafe on the other side of the city. Dee didn’t want to know how he knew that.

 

“Dee! Hey!”

 

Dee didn’t even turn round when Dennis called her. It would just be to say something scathing, or chuck something at her.

 

There was the sound of hundred dollar sneakers crunching the gravel then Dennis was beside her. “Why the hurry? Let’s walk together.”

 

“Piss off.” She sped up a little but Dennis just jogged to catch up again.

 

“So, this fight today, no one but us knows about it yet.” There was a wily grin on his face, he was going somewhere with this, but Dee wanted to stop him before he built up too much momentum.

 

“Mm.” Hoisting her backpack from the floor she pretended to fish around in it for something.

 

“That’s a shame, y’know, because if a few more people caught wind of it we could make some money-“

 

“Money?” Dee dropped her backpack.

 

“Yeah,” Dennis grinned, retrieving Dee’s backpack for her. Scamming other people together made him uncharacteristically decent to his sister. “So, y’know how Mac’s totally gonna win-“

 

“Hey hey hey, hang on a minute!” Dee snatched her backpack back. Scamming did not make her act any more kindly towards her brother. “Says who? Mac’s weak and lazy; Charlie’s scrappy.”

 

After she'd knocked him out last night Dee and Charlie had engaged in several slightly more amicable sparring matches. Charlie was by no means a pro boxer, but he was quick, violent, and impulsive. It would only take a couple of surprise blows to the head to knock Mac out cold. Charlie had this in the bag, in Dee’s opinion.

 

“Dee, Charlie's a drug addict,” Dennis said in a condescending voice. “And he has noodle limbs, Mac’s totally ripped.”

 

“Well, Mac’s a drug dealer-“

 

“You don't get high on your supply Dee, Jesus, drug dealing one-oh-one,” Dennis interjected.

 

“And he is not ripped, he's fat and you know it. You're just saying that so you don't have to admit you have a crush in a fat guy.”

 

“No I'm not! No I am not!” Dennis screamed. Across the street a woman grabbed her toddler’s hand and hurried along. Dennis growled softly and clenched his fist. “I'm not. There's nothing wrong with having a crush in a fat person. As long as they're not ugly. Like you.”

 

“Oh, whatever.” Dee rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. “Just tell me about your goddamned scheme already so we can stop talking.”

 

“Well,” Dennis kicked a small rock, “Now I don't want to tell you.”

 

“Tell people there's a fight going in and make them bet on Mac and Charlie?”

 

Dennis deflated and nodded in defeat. “Yeah, whatever, wasn't one of my best plans,” he muttered to himself.

 

“I'm gonna make more money than you, cocksucker,” Dee smirked. “Because Charlie’s a winner.” She paused. Last week Charlie had run into a door trying to catch a paper aeroplane. Not a glass door; just a door. “Ok, maybe he's not a winner, but he's better than Mac. At-at some things.” She gritted her teeth in frustration, then resorted to her safety tactic: name calling. “Just prepare for my cash shower, dick.” She sped up, leaving a disgruntled Dennis behind her.

 

“Fine,” he screamed, catching the attention of every passing car. “Fine! But just remember I was going to let you work with me, I was going to let you be on my team, and you said no.” He was silent and Dee was rel- “You. Said. No!”

 

Dee ducked her head and carried on, willing herself to look as little like Dennis as possible. She had wanted to be on Dennis’ team. She'd wanted to be on his team at Christmas, when their father pulled out all the stocks to humiliate them. She'd wanted to be in his team in elementary school, when everyone teased her for her back brace. She'd wanted to be on his literal team every time they played sports, but Dennis always laughed at the prospect and picked the cool kids, who hated him. Dee had always wanted to be on Dennis’ team, until she realised he was an unreliable teammate. Now she kind of had her own team, and it was a Dennis-free zone.

 

~

 

Dennis poked Adriano in the back with a pencil. He barely even twitched, but he was a solid wall of muscle. He poked again, this time with the sharp end of the pencil. “Psst, hey Adriano.”

 

“I was busy ignoring you, Reynolds, what?” Adriano grumbled.

 

“Ha, classic Adriano.” He had to be kidding. He had to be, because if he wasn’t then he, and everyone else in his gang, really did hate Dennis, and what did he have then? His sister, his gay best friend, a drug addict, and Schmitty. Maybe if he tried a little harder he could get Charlie’s friend Duley to hang out with him. Having minority friends was in right now.

 

Dennis straightened and got down to business. “My buddy Mac’s gonna beat the shit out of Charlie later, he’s a sure thing. Wanna bet?”

 

“Wanna bet what?”

 

“On the fight.”

 

Adriano sighed in annoyance, but turned his torso to face Dennis anyway. “How much do I stand to make?”

 

Dennis stopped himself before he could say ‘millions.’ He was a fourteen year old con artist; he wasn’t there yet. “Hundreds. He’s the hot thing, everyone’s talking about him.”

 

Adriano huffed. “Gay. But I’m willing to make some cash.” He pulled a fresh twenty dollar bill from his pocket. “Here.”

 

Dennis’ eyes widened and he pocketed it quickly. “Cool bro, cool. See you after school.”

 

Once Adriano was onboard it wasn’t difficult to persuade other children to hand over their hard-earned pocket money. Everyone wanted to be like Adriano, and although Dennis didn’t understand it so did he. He just wanted friends to hang about and bully other people with. Was that really too much to ask? It shouldn’t have been; after all, he was a God.

 

~

 

Dee scrunched her face into a scowl and leaned against her locker. She hadn’t had a bad day as far as scamming people was concerned, but she didn’t think she’d done as well as Dennis. All the cool kids seemed to be hyped up about Mac winning the fight and the bets they’d placed with Dennis.

 

Dee’s only consolation was that Dennis didn’t know how betting worked. He’d only allowed people to bet on Mac winning, meaning he’d have to pay every person back more than they’d paid him. He was an idiot. Everyone knew the secret to tipping a bet in your favour was getting everyone else to bet on the other team. Dee might not have as much money now, but no matter who won the fight Dennis was the real looser. She snickered.

 

Despite being the only intelligent child the Reynolds has produced Dee still wanted to make some more cash, so she reached out and grabbed a handful of the nearest dweeb’s sweater. “Hey doofus, wanna place a bet?” She asked.

 

The boy, fair-haired and kind of cute, as far as freshmen boys were concerned, stared at Dee in utter wonder. “Dee-Dee Reynolds,” he stuttered. “You-you’re talking to me!”

 

“Yeah, I am, big whoop.” Dee didn’t have time for fans. “You gonna give me money or what?”

 

“It’s me, Matthew!” The boy grinned for a moment, showing off pearly teeth like a military graveyard, then his face fell. “You do remember me, don’t you?”

 

Dee stared blankly.

 

“We’re in physical therapy together!”

 

Until this moment Dee had been fairly certain she went to physical therapy alone.

 

“Matthew Mara!”

 

At that moment Dee got bored, and realised she wasn’t getting any money until she claimed to recognise this kid. “Ooh! Matthew Mara! Of course! With the… leg… braces. Yeah!”

 

Matthew’s face lit up. “Yeah!”

 

“So about this money, are you going to give it to me or not?” She pouted and prayed to God he found her pretty. Looking at other girls her age Dee didn’t think there was anything wrong with her, but she’d never been called pretty in her life.

 

“What’s it for?” Goddamn. She’d been getting that question all day; all these stupid kids wanting to know where their money was going.

 

“It’s a bet. On a fight.”

 

“Oh.” Matthew suddenly looked a little less joyous. “Well the Bible says…”

 

“Bible? The Bible!” Dee cackled. “Matty, the Bible’s… a lot of years old. We don’t need to follow it anymore.”

 

Matthew ummed and slipped a hand into his pocket, but still hesitated. Dee reached out and gently rubbed his forearm. He forked over forty dollars.

 

“Put it on whoever you’re betting for,” he said, voice laced with something heavy and annoying Dee didn’t recognise.

 

“Mac, of course.” Dee pockets the money.

 

Matthew walked away, glancing back at Dee every few seconds. She made he noticed her watching him out the corner of her eye. Another sucka just got played.

 

~

 

Once again a large crowd had gathered in the yard, but this time it made Mac’s body rigid with adrenaline. Charlie, his supposed best friend, stood opposite him, fists clenched and teeth bared. He’d promised to rip his head off. He’d made a dumb, unrealistic promise and some idiot, Schmitty probably, had spread it around school. Goddamn him.

 

Let’s get this over with, Mac though to himself. He straightened up and balled his own fists. Charlie’s eyes widened. Mac’s fists felt like lead; he could barely lift them into a guard.

 

He’d always been the person who protected Charlie when he got that rabbit-caught-in-headlights look on his face. Now he was the one causing it. How had they got here?

 

Charlie edged forward and Mac’s heart began to race. They were really doing this. They were really going to do this. He was going to have to hit Charlie without pulling his punches, without aiming for his shoulder, without saying, “Ha! Gotcha!” and tackling him to the ground. They were really going to fight.

 

Charlie’s first punch came unexpectedly, hitting Mac just below the ribs and winding him. Charlie looked mortified and hopped back, but Mac was enraged enough to pursue him and deliver a driven blow to the stomach. It didn’t seem to have made too much of an impact, but Charlie was already red-eyed and breathing quickly.

 

“I don't wanna fight you,” Charlie wailed, dodging another of Mac’s lazy punches.

 

“Why? You coward!” Mac sneered, but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't really want to hurt Charlie.

 

“Because I love you!” Charlie yelled.

 

Mac pulled his punch short and fell on his face. The crowd were immediately deadly silent.

 

“I love you, man,” Charlie said again. “You're like my brother. You're better than my brother, you're my best friend. We always had each other’s backs and I was just mad because it seemed like you didn't have mine anymore. I'm sorry.”

 

He knelt next to Mac, who stared up at him with misty eyes. “Dude,” he whispered. As far back as Mac could remember no had ever said those words, in that order, to him. “Dude.” He pressed his forehead against Charlie’s, breathing heavily. He felt totally and completely calm.

 

“Hey!” Dennis lobbed a soda can at Mac’s head. It missed by almost a meter. “Keep fighting!”

 

Mac raised his hand and Charlie flinched, but instead of continuing the fight Mac leaned in and hugged him. “Charlie…” He squeezed tightly and Charlie nuzzled into his neck. “Dude… Bro… Seriously…” He sighed heavily. “I'm sorry.”

 

“I'm sorry too, I totally want to hang out with you, I want to hang out with you all the time, I want to jack cars with you.”

 

“For real bro? Oh my God,” Mac grinned. He hid a couple of tears in Charlie’s shoulder.

 

“What are we waiting for then? Let's go, come on!” Charlie stood up, still clinging to Mac’s shirt, and stared to tug him towards the gates. The crowd dispersed with angry grumbles; this wasn't the first time Charlie had let them down in a fight this year. It definitely wasn't the first time Mac had chickened out of a fight either. He was relieved to have worked his way out of this one too.

 

“Stop right there.”

 

Almost.

 

Mrs no-one-knows-her-name-but-man-are-her-eyebrows-scary grabbed the boys by their shirts. “Detention. Both of you. For a week.”

 

Charlie scowled and stomped his foot. Mac pretended to frown in annoyance too, but he was elated. He didn't have to fight. He had his best friend back. And Charlie loved him.

 

“And don't you two try to sneak away.”

 

Mac turned to see Dennis and Dee trying to melt into the crowd, but it was already too sparse.

 

“I know what you've been up to all day. Detention for a week. And you’re going to return all the money I heardyou stole.”

 

“Just a question,” Dennis piped up, “Did you, by any chance, hear who stole the most money?”

 

The teacher turned back to Mac and Charlie. “Detention starts now, for all of you.”

 

As she began to herd them back into school Dennis slung an arm around Mac and Charlie. “Sorry I made you guys fight,” he said in a strange, soft tone Mac hadn’t heard him use before. It was sweet. “I’ll spend more time with you, and less with Schmitty. Even if we do get in more trouble.”

 

“Thanks man,” Charlie grinned.

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Mac smiled. He realised that, for the first time since they’d met, Dennis was being selfless. It was endearing. Maybe he’d try being selfless some time.

 

But not right now. Right now he had two best friends who got along great and they’d probably do some drugs later, or jack a car, or drink beer on Dennis’ front lawn. Whatever they did, Mac was planning on enjoying it as selfishly as possible.

 

“So, you stole money, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I stole money,” Dennis beamed, launching into the tale of his betting catastrophe which, despite it being at their expense, Mac and Charlie seemed riveted by.

 

~

 

Dee trailed behind the boys, unable to drag her eyes up from the concrete. If she did then she’d have to watch the only people who had ever been on her team leave her behind for her brother. Just like everyone always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SO SORRY this took forever and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever written. It’s terrible and it’s late, I’m so sorry.
> 
> I’m trying so hard not to have too much dialogue, but at the same time I’m like ‘yall know what the Reynolds’ house looks like, you dgaf’ do just tell me if it’s too much dialogue or too much description.
> 
> Next chapter, which I promise won’t take this long or be this bad, will only be 50% comedy, the other part will be serious and hopefully handled with as much care as Sunny allows. Major warning in advance for child abuse. The other half is Mac and Dee ‘trying’ to go in a ‘date.’
> 
> Sorry again, thanks for reading and thanks for waiting!


	4. *major trigger warnings for sexual assault*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t want to name the chapter just in case so: Dennis gets raped.
> 
> Don’t worry, this is not a comedy chapter (ik my other chapters aren’t funny, but this one, half of it at least, is not played for comedy in the slightest) I’ve tried to handle it well, thought it’s maybe a little rushed. And before someone says it: no I do condone pedophilia, no I do not condone not telling someone about assault to ‘protect your masculinity’, I’m just trying to be canon compliant without making jokes like the show did. Tell me if I’ve done anything wrong, I’ll fix it (it is unedited though, sorry, I’m rushing to get on a plane).
> 
> Warnings:  
> •sexual assault, child abuse, pedophilaia  
> •attempted murder  
> •standard sexism

It was almost four o'clock, but Charlie was loitering. Unlike the science labs, the art rooms were left unlocked after hours and Charlie needed to get his hands on some new spray paints. Most people would argue that actually he just wanted the spray paint, but Charlie knew better. He was all too familiar with the nausea and shivers and sharp headaches that ambushed his body when he went more than a few days without inhaling something. Cheap school paints would have to do, because the alternative was much worse.

 

Footsteps on the corridor sent a jolt of fear through Charlie, but it was too late to duck into the room. The footsteps were pounding along the linoleum, echoing in the empty halls.

 

Charlie peered cautiously from behind a row of lockers and saw Dennis racing towards him. His hair was ruffled, shirt untucked and sweated clutched in his hands, and it looked like he'd been crying. He didn't notice Charlie as he hurtled past, but when Charlie yelled out, "Dennis!" he stopped and turned.

 

"Oh." His voice cracked slightly. "Hey Charlie." He sauntered back, smoothing his shirt and quickly drying his face.

 

"You been crying, buddy?"

 

"What?" Dennis looked down at his wet hands. "No, no, ha ha, no." He shook his head, just in case Charlie hadn't got the message.

 

"What're you doing here then? School finished ages ago." Charlie tried to catch Dennis' gaze, but he wouldn't look him in the eye. The way he hung his head was almost shameful.

 

"I could ask you the same thing," Dennis snapped. He started walking away so Charlie follow, all thoughts of getting high pushed to the back of his mind.

 

"Was gonna bum some paint," Charlie told him.

 

"Oh." The look on Dennis' face told Charlie his entire plan was anchored in the fact that Charlie wouldn't tell him what he'd been doing. "I was just," he shrugged, "In the library."

 

"The library?" Charlie scoffed. They burst though the doors, oblivious to the fact that they could be caught. "What, can you read or something?"

 

"Yes. I can read. You're the only person here who can't read, Charlie," Dennis replied. "I wasn't reading though." He hunched his shoulders closer to his ears and crossed his arms. "I was just... Doing other stuff, jeez, since when are you a detective, Charlie? Shove off." Then he gave Charlie a slight shove for emphasis.

 

"Whatever, man." He was used to being left out of whatever secrets Dennis and Mac shared, but this seemed different. Usually keeping secrets from Charlie made Dennis and Mac giggling messes, sneaking around together and scheming. Now Dennis looked macabre; even paler than usual and like he'd seen a ghost.

 

As they exited the gates Charlie swung left, following Dennis rather than going home. "Can I hang out at your place?" He asked.

 

Dennis turned slowly and Charlie swore he was about to cry again. "Yeah, sure, if you like." Then, for once, he waited for Charlie to catch up with him before he started walking again.

 

~

 

Despite never having been to Mac's house before Dee didn't have any trouble finding it. His mom was camped out on the porch trying to fix an air cooling unit, a small mountain of cigarette butts at her side. The porch also contained a rusted, old bike, a broken karate trophy, and a mangy puppy.

 

Dee approached with caution. "Hi Mrs Mc..." She paused, unsure if the rest of Mac's family shared the same loathing of their surname. "Is Dennis here?"

 

Mrs Mac grunted, then leaned forward and yelled into the house, "Dennis, are you home?" in a way that made Dee wonder if she knew Dennis wasn't her son.

 

Someone thundered downstairs, then Mac stuck his head out the front door. "My name's Mac, mom," he said in a monotonous tone. "Oh, hi Dee."

 

"Is my brother here?" She asked. "He didn't come home." Her mother had gone away a week ago and still not returned. Her father had been missing all night. But that wasn't unusual. She was only worried about Dennis because he usually did come home. It's not like she was worried about him. It's not like he was the only family member she'd ever been close to. It's not like he was the dumbest human ever to walk the earth and if she didn't at least try to keep an eye on him he'd end up getting killed.

 

"No, I thought he was with you and Charlie."

 

"Charlie isn't with me."

 

They shared a look. They probably should've been worried about their friends. They probably should've gone to look for them.

 

"Wanna hang out?" Mac offered. "Just us?"

 

"Yeah, sure."

 

~

 

Before Charlie had even had the chance to pretend to take his shoes off Dennis made a beeline for the kitchen, leaving his friend in the hall. There was a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink, his father had taken their maid... Somewhere, and no clean glasses in the cupboards. He turned the tap on and drank from it like an animal, like Charlie probably would, but he couldn't bring himself to swallow it.

 

He threw up in the sink.

 

"Dude, are you ok?" Charlie asked, opening the cupboard and taking out a pack of cookies as if he lived there. "Huff too much glue? That happens, bud. That reminds me: have any glue?"

 

"Charlie..." Dennis wiped his mouth, staring down into the sink. It was dark down there. It was probably slimy. It was probably cold. If he stuck his hand down it would get crunched in the garbage disposal. He whipped his head round to look at Charlie. "Can I tell you some thing awesome?"

 

"Uh-suhm?" Charlie questioned around a mouthful of cookies. He swallowed so hard he probably should've choked. "You look bummed out."

 

"Nah, that's crazy." Dennis forced his voice to sound cheerful. Who could he kid, if not Charlie? He sat down at the table. "This is probably going to go down as one of the best days of my life." Probably. If he could just figure out what had happened.

 

"Cool, alright, tell me then," Charlie said, cramming another handful of cookies into his mouth.

 

There was nobody home, but Dennis leaned forward all the same. Charlie leaned in too, but only because he often copied Dennis when he didn't know what to do. "I just," Dennis whispered, "Lost my virginity!"

 

"Oh, nice!" Charlie gave that same over-the-top grin he always did when they talked about sex. "You finally got to do... That stuff... With your dick..."

 

"Sex, Charlie."

 

"Yeah, that." They paused for a moment. Charlie was clearly bewildered and Dennis was certain that if he continued his story would lose its excitement. "Sooo, was it to Maureen?" Charlie asked eventually.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Maureen. That girl you liked on the first day of school, who you hang out with sometimes."

 

"No, no, it was to someone older," Dennis said. That sounded good. That sounded normal. He was the kind of mature young man who could bag an older girl.

 

"Cool, cool, ok, with, like, a senior or something?"

 

A senior. He wished. "No, uh, a little older." That could be a sexy teacher, right? Their Spanish teacher was in her twenties and not too bad to look at, Dennis would probably have been congratulated for winning over such a catch.

 

Charlie didn't look in any mood to congratulate him. His eyes looked wide and frightened, mouth pulled into a perplexed scowl. "Dennis, did you want to do this?" He murmured.

 

"What?" The audacity! How dare Charlie, who had called Dennis' favourite crime drama a terrible comedy, suggest Dennis hadn't wanted to lose his virginity? "Of course! Obviously! God, Charlie, just, just shut up!"

 

"It's ok, man-" Charlie started.

 

"But it's not, ok? It's not ok. I-" He sighed. This was an entirely different kind of vulnerable. A worse kind of vulnerable, he'd thought until a couple of hours ago. "I wanted it to be romantic. My first time. I wanted to be sixteen and I wanted there to be candles and rose petals and, hell, a bed. And I wanted it to be with someone I love." He looked nervously up at Charlie. "Do you get that? And don't say you're thinking about my sister!"

 

"Nah," Charlie shrugged. "I don't really think about that much. But I get it."

 

For a moment the only sound was the hum of the fridge. Charlie stared intensely at Dennis, not even trying to reach for another cookie. Dennis wanted to tell him everything. That he was petrified. That he didn't want to go back to school. That he felt like it was his fault somehow - he should've enjoyed it, or prevented it, or at least tried to do something.

 

His eyes began to burn and he looked down at the table.

 

"Hey, Dennis?" Charlie reached across the table and took his hands. Dennis let him. He was surprised to see that Charlie was crying; it made him feel less embarrassed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

 

Dennis' breaths were so shaky he didn't dare speak. He nodded instead.

 

Charlie leaned across the table, gripping Dennis' hands tightly, until their noses were almost touching. "When I was five years old," he whispered softly, "My uncle raped me."

 

~

 

Dee perched on the end of Mac's bed, looking around his room. It was immaculate, not at all what she'd expected. His bed was made, carpet vacuumed, surfaces swept. On his dresser he kept a karate trophy with one of the pillars slightly cracked, and a robot holding a picture of him and Charlie as kids. It was pleasant and homey.

 

"Dee, I've been thinking about something," Mac said, sitting down heavily beside her.

 

"I don't wanna hear any of the weird shit you've been thinking about."

 

"This isn't that weird, I swear," he chuckled. "It was just that, Dennis is my best friend, and you're his sister, so usually that means, huh." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Usually when that happens..."

 

"Mac, are you trying to ask me out?" Dee scoffed. She was about to deliver a scathing remark when she paused to think about it. Mac was attractive enough. At least, Dennis said he was. They got along well, and Dee didn't feel like her insides were about to explore whenever she spoke to him. What was it her mother was always saying? Take what you're offered, no one will ever want you. What other choice did she have but to say yes? "Sure," she said tentatively. "I'll go out with you."

 

"Awesome," Mac grinned, doing a series of useless gesture that vaguely resembled karate.

 

"Doesn't, um, doesn't Charlie have any cousins or anything for you to go out with?" In wasn't unreasonable, in Dee's opinion, to assume she was Mac's last hope. He wasn't exactly smooth-talking with the ladies; he'd probably been rejected before.

 

"He has a sister," Mac said, and Dee frowned. Charlie had never mentioned a sister. That little shit. This could've been her chance to have a female best friend. "But he doesn't really know her that well, she's a foster kid or something. And anyway-" Mac smiled in that way that made him look like an innocent little kid, "I'm sure she's not as pretty as you."

 

"What?" Dee exploded.

 

"No, no-" Mac was waving his hands wildly. "I didn't say that. I didn't say that! You're not that pretty. No. You're not pretty. You're like, like..." He kicked her in the shin, quite hard, but Dee smiled. That was more like it.

 

"You look like a, a bird or something." The look on Mac's face told Dee he was very proud of that. "Yeah, a bird."

 

She shrugged. A bird was alright. She could live with people thinking she looked like a bird.

 

"Hey, maybe I'll tell the guys at school that," Mac said, and Dee was just about to smack him in the face when he added, "Then maybe they'll stop calling you all those other mean names, like bitch, and whore, and slut and-"

 

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough," Dee interrupted. "Thanks, Mac."

 

He batted his eyelashes and leaned against her shoulder. "Anything for my girlfr-"

 

Dee slapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't even say it!"

 

~

 

Charlie was certain he’d been holding his breath for a whole minute. Maybe two. Maybe more. He was waiting for Dennis to say something. Do something. Even blink.

 

Dennis’ eyes had gone glassy. It seemed like the rest of the world had frozen and left Charlie alone. He wanted to test this theory, to go outside and steal a donut, but Dennis was still gripping his hand. His fingers were ghostly pale against Charlie’s tanned skin.

 

They stayed statue still for so long Charlie realised he needed to use the bathroom, which was something he didn’t really want to do with Dennis. “Hey,” he murmured. “Y’alright buddy? Wanna let go of my hand now?”

 

Apparently Dennis did not, because he squeezed harder. “I said yes,” he whispered, eyes finally releasing the tears they’d been clinging on to.

 

“What?”

 

“I said yes,” he repeated. “I didn’t know what I was doing-“

 

“So did I,” Charlie interrupted. He rubbed his thumb soothingly across Dennis’ hand. Dennis was only fourteen. It’d been months since Charlie was fourteen, and thinking back he’d been one dumb son of a bitch. How could Dennis, a child, more of a child than even Charlie, possible be blamed for this? “That doesn’t mean shit, Dennis. We’re kids, it’s disgusting.” Charlie then smirked slightly, despite himself. “Now let’s go send that bitch to prison!”

 

“No.”

 

“What?” If Charlie’s uncle hadn’t been a lawyer he would’ve had him locked up ten years ago. But Charlie had been a five year old, and he knew his mom never would’ve backed him up; she loved her brother. Now he was just trying to force the memory from his mind. He’d never be smart enough to do anything else.

 

“That’s emasculating.”

 

“What?” Charlie repeated.

 

“Look, I don’t expect you to get this,” Dennis said, a sharp edge to his otherwise quiet voice, “Because you’re all girly and shit. But men don’t get raped, ok? If I admit to this now, if I have this on my record, if the people that respect me find out about this the rest of my life will be ruined. I want to keep this to myself. Like you have.”

 

Charlie gritted his teeth in frustration. He didn’t want to tell Dennis what to do; wasn’t used to it. And he knew how Dennis was feeling - powerless. No matter how stupid Dennis’ ideas always were Charlie knew he now had to go along with them. That included keeping Dennis’ secret, just like he’d asked him to keep his own.

 

“Alright,” Charlie sighed. “Ok, dude, ok.” He paused. “You wanna talk about-“

 

“No,” Dennis responded immediately, snatching his hands back across the table. “No, no, no.” He hid his face in his hand. “No, no, no, no.”

 

“Ok, ok, ok,” Charlie garbled. He reached out to tousle Dennis’ hair a little, causing his friend to jerk his head bark in panic. “Ok, ok,” Charlie repeated. He stood up and went to the cupboard, taking out two bottles of vodka. “Then, drink to forget?”

 

Charlie couldn’t help but feel they needed an adult. He knew he wasn’t intelligent or mature for his age, and although assault and alcohol were among the few things he had an extensive knowledge of he still didn’t feel qualified to handle the situation. But who else did Dennis have? Charlie had spent several evenings after school at the Reynolds’ household and had never once run into Dennis’ parents, or any other visiting relatives. Despite their apparent codependence Dee claimed to hate her brother and would probably ridicule him. Their teachers were useless - part of the problem, evidently. And Charlie didn’t trust the police.

 

He was all Dennis had.

 

“Sure, I’ll drink to that,” Dennis said, taking a swig of the cheap spirit and wincing.

 

Charlie eyed the small ‘flammable’ symbol on the side of the bottle. “I miiight have another idea too.”

 

~

 

The awning was weighed down with rain. The tables outside seemed to have been sculpted out of rust. The windows were so dirty and the inside so dingy it was impossible to make out anything inside but fleeting shadows.

 

Mac grinned proudly. The perfect place for a first date.

 

“What the fuck is this?” Dee exclaimed. “This place is gross, I don’t want to go in here.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Mac shrugged, “But I only have ten bucks. Get in.”

 

He shoved Dee towards the mangy cafe door. It wasn’t like she could be fussy; she’d never been on a date before. Neither had he, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

 

Inside a miasma of cigarette smoke hung in the hair, despite the fact that the cafe had very few patrons. The tables had been cleared hastily; there were no plates left on them, but the stains of every drink ever drunk patterned the surfaces.

 

There was no one behind the counter, so Mac and Dee selected a table that didn’t look like it would spontaneously grow mould. Mac reached to pull out Dee’s chair for her, but ended up pulling it too far. She fell to the crumb-covered floor.

 

“Oops. Sorry.” Mac hastily helped her up.

 

He didn’t feel nervous, it felt more like hanging out with a friend than going on a date, but he felt like he should be nervous. Dennis talked extensively about all the girls he’d been on dates with and he said they were always nervous, and that he liked that. So naturally that’s what Mac aimed to achieve.

 

“What kind of dump is this, anyway?” Dee asked, squinting through the smoke to try and read a menu taped to the wall.

 

“Dunno, some kid at school recommended it to me.” He didn’t remember who, but when he did they’d receive a mediocre punch in the face. As long as they were a girl. And couldn’t fight back.

 

Mac decided to take action and just order something romantic - meat and black coffee - and made his way up to the counter. He leaned over it, trying to see in the back room. “Hello? Anyone here? Hello? I want to impress my date.”

 

“Sorry,” a despairing voice called from the back room, “I’ll be out in a second.” A young girl stumbled out of the kitchen, struggling to balance a tray filled with coffee cups. She turned, almost dropped her tray, then straightened. “Oh.” Somehow she managed to look even more miserable. “Hi, Mac.”

 

Mac squinted. He’d never seen this girl before in his life. “Who the fuck are you?”

 

“Who the fuck is this?” Dee had pressed herself against Mac’s side and was leaning over the counter, glaring at the coffee shop waitress.

 

“Seriously?” The waitress snapped. “It’s me, Elizabeth.” She was met with blank stares. “We’re in the same math class.” Still nothing. “Your creepy friend Charlie has a crush on me.”

 

“Oh!” Mac nodded vigorously at Dee. “Charlie’s crush, yeah.”

 

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth mumbled. She stormed past Mac and Dee, angrily slapping coffee cups onto tables. The lukewarm liquid sloshed over the tabletop, but no one noticed.

 

“Hey waitress,” Mac called.

 

“Elizabeth.”

 

“How come you work here? Aren’t you, like, our age?”

 

“It’s the family business.” Elizabeth slipped back behind the counter, pushing her short hair from her face. “My dad says if I work here all the time then maybe one day, after he’s dead, I can own the place.” She sighed. “I’m not smart, I need-“

 

“Didn’t ask for your life story, bud,” Dee interjected. “You gonna serve us or what?”

 

“Uuuh…” Elizabeth was suddenly very busy wiping down the counter, which looked like it hadn’t been wiped in years. “I, uh, I really don’t think you should be here right now. You should go.”

 

“What kind of service is this? I’m outraged! And in front of my date!” Mac fumed. Secretly he was a little relieved. He didn’t know what people were suppose to talk about on dates. However he did know that they usually kissed at the end, and as much as he liked Dee he didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe if he closed his eyes he could pretend she was Dennis…

 

No. He grabbed Dee’s arm and dragged her towards the door.

 

“Bye Dee,” Elizabeth called softly.

 

Dee paused for a second, dragging Mac to a stop. She stared at Elizabeth for a moment, then looked back to Mac, then rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” They left.

 

Mac scuffed the toes of his sneakers, which were already partially eroded. He didn’t know where they were going. “Hey, uh, Dee,” he murmured.

 

“What?”

 

“I like you a lot. I thought I hated girls, but you’re one of my best friends. And I want it to stay that way; I want you to be my friend. Is that ok?”

 

Dee smiled at the sidewalk. “Yeah, that’s fine.” She looked up at Mac. “But only because Im an eight or nine, and you’re a four.”

 

“Four?” Mac exclaimed. “Four! You’re the four, I’m a ten you goddamned bi-“ He halted and his face softened a little. “Bird.”

 

“Shut up,” Dee laughed. “Let’s go find your boyfriend.”

 

“Charlie or Dennis?” Mac asked, before realising his mistake and turning bright red.

 

“Both,” Dee smirked. “Come on.”

 

~

 

She had managed to get them out before the shouting started. And the sharp shattering of ceramic hitting the floor. And the chuckles of customers who never batted an eyelid.

 

Elizabeth took a deep breath, wrung her cloth out, and pretended she couldn’t hear the screams of disappointment.

 

~

 

They were hunkered down behind a car in front of Mrs Klinsky’s house. Dennis’ heart was pounding. Sure he watched porn and drank and smoked and took drugs when the opportunity arose. And he stole from his parents and felt up women on the bus (a reward, he thought, for riding the public bus) and had planned his sister’s murder several times over. But this was different. This was a serious crime with serious consequences. And Charlie didn’t even seem phased.

 

“Charlie I, I’m, I’m, I-I’m scared,” Dennis whispered, feeling pathetic.

 

“It’s ok man, it’s cool, it’s cool, I’ve done this before,” Charlie replied. He did look rather stoic, molotov cocktail in one hand and match book in the other. He looked up at the windows, nodded determinedly, then crept around the car, beckoning for Dennis to follow.

 

Did he really want Mrs Klinsky dead?

 

Yes.

 

He followed Charlie onto the pavement, keeping below the window, until they were pressed right up against her house.

 

Charlie was grinning now, grinning at Dennis. “This is gonna make you feel better buddy, I promise.”

 

Dennis didn’t know if setting a pedophile’s house on fire would make him feel better, especially if she wasn’t home, but he knew that Charlie was making him feel better. He didn’t feel bad looking down on Charlie, he’d always thought of him as a dumb schmuck, but today he’d seen a different side of him. Calm, controlled, and brave. A little bit wild, but then again, wasn’t Dennis? Wasn’t everyone? What use was a God who could be tamed?

 

“Stand by,” Charlie murmured. “We’re gonna be running in a minute, like, really running.” He struck a match and held it to the cloth protruding from the bottle neck, which quickly erupted into flame. “Ok, ok.” Charlie rose to a stooped stand, took a step back, then hurled the bottle at the glass window. It shattered, surprisingly, raining glass down into Dennis’ hair.

 

“Run run run!” Charlie was yelling, taking Dennis’ hands and pulling him away from the house. Dennis stumbled, staring backwards. He wanted to see her dead body. He wanted to stand over her and laugh, laugh like she’d laughed so lightly and kindly as she assured him everything would be fine. He wanted to-

 

A ball of orange flame erupted from the front window and Charlie pulled on Dennis’ hand harder. He was transfixed. It burned his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. He had done this. He had caused this destruction.

 

No.

 

He’d got someone else to cause it for him. It was glorious. It was a marvel. It was everything he’d ever wanted, creation and destruction rolled into one-

 

Charlie pulled him around the corner.

 

They collapsed, gripping each others' hands and laughing gleefully. Dennis straightened a little, taking in Charlie's rosy cheeks and jubilant grin. He raised a hand to cup Charlie's freckled jaw and his eyes widened. Charlie stopped breathing so comically loudly, instead his chest heaved with shaky, uncertain breaths.

 

"I want to... Is it ok if I..." Dennis fumbled.

 

Charlie shrugged, so Dennis leaned in and kissed him. It was soft and sweet and tasted like spirits. Dennis supposed it was his first proper kiss. He didn't really know what to do, but Charlie was surprisingly confident. Dennis wondered if he'd kissed anyone before. He wondered if he'd kissed Mac.

 

Mac.

 

Dennis leaned back, hand still curled around Charlie's face. "Don't tell Mac about this, ok?" He demanded.

 

"Sure, sure, sure," Charlie nodded. "Don't tell your sister."

 

"I won't." After a second of hesitation Dennis kissed him again, gently and quickly. "I won't."

 

~

 

They caught up with Mac and Dee at the gates to the Reynolds’ house. When Charlie asks them what they’d been up to they shrugged and mumbled and said, “Nothing much.” Charlie did the same.

 

“Wanna maybe get something to eat?” Mac asked.

 

“This real fancy Italian just opened up, they have good fish, I think,” Charlie nodded sincerely.

 

“Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Dennis said. “Guigino’s. But we could never afford that. I went to that cabinet where dad always keeps a roll of cash but there was nothing in it.”

 

“Ba-boom.” Dee produced a fat roll of hundred dollar bills from her pocket. “I got there first, sucka.”

 

Dennis and Charlie smiled, mumbling ‘aw, nice’ and ‘good job, Dee’ but Mac cried, “And you were gonna let me pay for the date?”

 

“Date?”

 

“Date?”

 

“Ooh, busted,” Dee smirked at a very flushed, stuttering Mac.

 

“Uh, uh,” Mac sweated. “Charlie’s crush is a waitress.” That earned him a couple of shrugs. Even Charlie was more interested in this ‘date’ they were talking about. “Dee looks like a bird!” He yelled.

 

“Oh my God, she does,” Dennis gasped dramatically, slapping a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “You’re a riot, dude.”

 

Charlie looked at Dee. She did look kinda of like a bird. He smiled. He loved birds.

 

They set off towards the restaurant.

 

Charlie glanced over at Dennis. There were a lot of things he hadn’t told him. Like how his uncle had abused him several times, for years, even once he was old enough to fight back. How he’d tried to tell his mom and she hadn’t cared. How even now every time he saw his uncle he tried to touch him, run his fingers through his hair, caress his thigh, and all Charlie could do was freeze. How he didn’t even have the courage to tell Mac, his best friend in the world, the only respite he’d ever had from spending nights paralysed in fear.

 

But Dennis looked happy. He slung an arm around Charlie’s shoulders and hugged him. He laughed at his sister’s lame joke. He smiled softly and dreamily across at Mac.

 

No. Charlie wouldn’t ruin this for him. He’d keep his nightmares to himself and allow Dennis to keep his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that wasn’t too bad.
> 
> Stay tuned next for children skipping gym class and rejecting Christian boys.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, it's not great. But I'm almost ten years younger than Rob was when he first wrote Sunny, and it's not my show or my characters, and I was trying to introduce the high school version of as many people as possible. I promise they'll get more focused and will be better characterised the more I write. This was just a rushed introduction.
> 
> I'll try and update weekly like a tv show, but not necessarily next Friday, just some time next week. If I can't then I'm really sorry, it's because of course work and college. But next chapter's about Dee dressing Charlie like a girl to teach him a lesson, and Dennis and Mac teaming up to be mean to girls in the hopes of winning their favour.
> 
> My tumblr's itsalwayssunnyontelevision if you wanna tell me how much I suck!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
